Promise
by Brighteyes of Thunderclan
Summary: Misery: it knows many names. Loved second best by her mother, treated like an outcast by her Clan, tortured by the apprentices, all because she isn't like her "amazing" sister. This is Whitefang. In a battle with Riverclan, she makes a promise, one that will forever twist her destiny. Will she keep it? Or live the life of happiness she's always wanted?
1. Prologue

"The night is so beautiful." Paledove murmured, leaning into the shoulder of her mate.

"Yes, it is, isn't it?" Stonetail sighed. "Leafbare's skies are always so clear, the stars shining down with the smallest flakes of snow like fallen stars." Paledove purred and Stonetail pulled her closer. As they gazed up at the sky together, Paledove instinctively curled her light silver tail around her slightly swollen belly. Her mate noticed and chuckled. "Are you thinking about them again?"

"Of course." Paledove replied. "I always do." She bent down and touched her nose to her stomach. "Hear me, little ones? I love you, and always will. Forever and always."

**EPIC LINEBREAK**

"They're coming!" Rosedust cried, running into the medicine cat den. Shyfawn raised her head quickly.

"Are they? It's too early!" She gasped. As she stood, she prodded her apprentice, Goldenpaw, in the side sharply. "Wakeup! Paledove's kits are coming!" Goldenpaw leaped up, shaking the sleepiness out of her fur.

"Really? Isn't it too early?"

"Of course it's too early! Grab the borage, and some thyme. Don't forget a poppy seed just in case!" Shyfawn called over her shoulder, hurrying out of the den after Rosedust. Goldenpaw snatched up the herbs and rushed out after her mentor. Upon entering the den, all three she-cats were greeted by wails of pain. Paledove lay in her nest, straining and crying out for help. Three pairs of glowing eyes peeked at her from over the edge of the nest beside her's. A small dark orange kit mewed,

"Mother! What's wrong with Paledove? Why's she so upset?" The kitten asked anxiously.

"Paledove is kitting, love. It's very hard. How about you come out and ask Sharpcloud if he will play with you?" Rosedust smoothed her small children with soft-spoken words. "Come now."

"Alright. Come on, Graykit! Sharpcloud's the best moss ball player in all of Moonclan!" The orange kit mewed to her brother.

"Alright." A fluffy gray and black tom said, padding after his sister as she bounced out of the nursery.

"Wait for me!" Squeaked the last kit, a tiny dusty-brown she-cat. "Wait up!"

"We'll catch up to them together Mothkit." Rosedust purred. She cast a final look over her shoulder, only to catch a glimpse of Goldenpaw, who ran a paw lightly over Paledove's flank while Shyfawn's black and amber shape sat huddled next to the kitting queen. Paledove moaned.

"It's alright, everything's going to be okay." Shyfawn said strongly. "Now Goldenpaw, on the next contraction I want you to push right…. here! Now! Go!" Goldenpaw quickly thrust down on the place her mentor had touched, and with a grunt of exertion from herself and a high pitched shriek from Paledove, a small kit slid out onto the moss. Goldenpaw licked it fiercely, trying to warm it up. Paledove shuddered as the next contraction wracked her tired body, and Shyfawn shouted, "Push!" Another little life was brought into the world. Shyfawn and Goldenpaw placed the little sisters next to the belly of their mother. The medicine cats watched the kittens nurse for a few moments and then, satisfied with a job well done, they left.

Stonetail was pacing furiously outside the den, he had been distraught with the pain-filled wails of his mate. He looked up as the medicine cats exited.

"Well?" He asked, pausing in his rapid steps for a moment.

"You have two adorable daughters!" Goldenpaw smiled.

"Thank you!" Stonetail purred. He then hurried to the nursery to greet his new family. The dim, warm, milky atmosphere of the nursery greeted Stonetail as he stepped inside. Paledove slowly raised her head, and smiled weakly at the sight of her mate. Stonetail hurried to her side, pressing his face into her fur and then looking down upon his two sweet daughters. One was white, with swirling lines of pale silver running through her soft pelt. The other was slightly larger, her fur a thick, fluffy white. Stonetail purred loudly.

"What should we name them?" Paledove asked sleepily. "Well, Whitekit for the bigger one, obviously. But what about my darling little first born?" At first Stonetail was taken aback by his mate's blatant disregard for his second-born daughter, but pushed it away, thinking,

_She's tired. She isn't thinking clearly. Of course she loves both of them equally. Why wouldn't she?_

"What about Swankit?" He suggested, licking the top of his little kitten's head. Paledove purred.

"That's perfect! A prettier name for the clearly prettier she-cat. Oh, my precious love," Paledove cooed, "You are the perfect daughter." Stonetail sat, still as the rocks he was named for.

_Could my wonderful mate _truly _not love our second-born? My little Whitekit! I will always love you, and your sister, as much as any father would. _

_I promise. _


	2. Adders Aren't the Only Ones that Bite

"Swankit, wait up!" Whitekit called out to her older sister. Swankit was leaping ahead, pouncing upon the fluffy mounds of snow that came down last night. The dainty sliver and white she-kit was moving through it easily, due to her sleek pelt. Whitekit, however, was stuggling.

"Come on, slow slug!" Swankit giggled, diving into another drift. Whitekit desperately tried to follow her sister.

"Swankit, you know my pelt's thicker than yours! I can't help it if I move slow! You should slow down!" White kit looked around. Her sister had disappeared into the big, cold world. "Swankit? Swankit? Where are you?" She cried out. Whitekit gasped as something pinched her tail. "AAHHH AN ADDER'S GOT ME! MAMA HEEELP!" Paledove emerged slowly from the nursery and padded right past her little daughter.

"Don't be foolish, Whitekit. Adders don't come out in Leaf-Bare. Stop trying to get attention! You're probably just standing on it." Paledove scolded, walking away. Whitekit sniffed. The pinching on her tail grew harder and harder. Whitekit tried not to wail out loud, and instead pulled, trying to free her little tail from whaterver had it in its grasp. Suddenly, Swankit's head popped out of the snow behind her sister. In her jaws was a small, fluffy, white….tail. Swankit spit it out.

"Ewwww! Whitekit don't you ever wash?" She asked, making a face. The three older kits, who had been playing nearby on an ice-slide that Blizzardnose made for them, laughed. Whitekit sniffed again and ducked her head, as if trying to melt into the snow and disappear.

"Aww, Whitekit, can't you take a joke?" Rainkit jeered.

"Yeah, you don't need to be such a wuss!" Timberkit snickered. "Why can't you be more like Swankit?" Whitekit hid her face with her paws in shame. _Why _can't_ I be more like Swankit? _She wailed in her mind. _Why _can't _mother love me like her? Why _can't _the other kits like me? Why? Why! WHY! _Swankit walked up to her sister and put a gentle paw on her shoulder.

"I'm sorry." Swankit mewed sincerely. Whitekit looked up to tell her it was all right when she realized her sister had already left. She was over there, laughing with the other kits and had already forgotten about her little sister. Whitekit hurried over to the four older kits, tripping over her own big paws on the way. Bouncekit sneered at her.

"Oh, look. Whitekit's so clumsy she can't even walk!" Timberkit padded over to her. The dark brown tabby kit was five whole moons older than her and would be and apprentice soon. She didn't even stand as tall as his shoulder. Timberkit pushed her back, laughing, as she tried to get over to her sister and play with her. All Swankit did was sit there and watch. Watch as Timberkit and Bouncekit pushed her and swatted her, watched as Rainkit called her names and watched as all three compared her to Swankit.

"Swankit is so much prettier than _you_!" Rainkit smirked.

"She's cooler too!" Bouncekit added, giving Whitekit a shove to the shoulder.

"Yeah, 'cause she's not a wimp like you!" Timberkit laughed, jabbing her with a claw. Tears welled up in Whitekit's eyes, but she didn't let them fall. Instead they stayed there, big, floppy, tears filling her golden eyes.

"Aw, look, she's gonna _cry_!" Rainkit giggled gleefully. "She's gonna _cry_, just like a little _kittypet_! Aren't you a kittypet, Whitekit? Say it!" Rainkit was walking up to her now, like a big, menacing, silver-blue badger. _That's what they are!_ Whitekit thought. _They're all a bunch of badgers! Big, stinky, mean badger-breaths! _

"I-I'm not a kittypet! I'm gonna be a warrior!" Whitekit wailed.

"You are, are you now?" Timberkit teased. "Well, I don't think so. I think you're gonna be a kittypet!"

"Well, all you're gonna be is a badger! A BIG, and STINKY, and MEAN. OLD. BADGER. ALL OF YOU! LEAVE ME ALONE!" Whitekit cried out angrily, giving Timberkit a swipe on the nose, claws un-sheathed.

"OW!" Timberkit wailed. His mother, Blueshine, hurried over.

"Oh, baby, what is it?" She asked worriedly.

"My nose! Whitekit called me a badger and clawed my nose!" He mewed, pointing a big brown paw at Whitekit, who stood frozen in place. Blueshine looked horrified.

"Paledove!" Blueshine called out. The light silver queen strolled over.

"What is the matter Blueshine?" Paledove wondered, looking curiously at her friend's rage-filled face.

"Your-your kit is a monster! Look at what she did to my _son_!" The silver-blue queen yowled in distress, pushing Timberkit forward. His little berry pink nose was bleeding, the red liquid staining his paw where he rubbed it.

"Swankit would never do this!" Paledove gasped.

"It wasn't Swankit. It was _her_! " Timberkit whimpered, pointing again towards Whitekit. _He accuses me of a crime and doesn't even use my name! _She thought angrily. But then she saw her mother's face, and her anger was replaced by fear.

"Whitekit…did you do this?" Her mother growled, low and slow.

"Yes, bu-" Whitekit began, but Paledove cut her off with a hiss.

"You should never hurt another kit!" Paledove snapped. "Especially one who has done absolutely nothing wrong! You are a disgrace!"

"Mama! He called me a kittypet! He-no, all three of them! They called me names and pushed me and teased me and-and they compared me to Swankit in a mean way!" Whitekit whimpered, protesting. Tears slid down her cheeks.

"It is one this to hurt one of your own clanmates. It is a completely different thing to lie about it! The least you could do was admit it and get off with a smaller punishment! But this, this is inexcusable!" Paledove snarled, her voice angry and cold. "And as for comparing you to Swankit, I see no similarities. I am _ashamed_ to call _you_ my daughter." The silver queen turned her back to her kitten. "Get out of my sight." Whitkit couldn't believe it. Her own mother just as good as rejected her! The huge floppy tears now ran down her soft white face, and she turned and ran. She ran into the medicine cat den and hid in a nook by the small dark pool of water. Then, the medicine cat, Thistlepelt, found her.

"_You_!" He hissed. "Get out of here! Leave!" Whitekit sobbed, her tears blinding her as she ran from the den. The little she-cat stumbled throughout the camp, bumping into other cats, bramble walls of dens, and tripping over loose stones and twigs. Finally, she slammed into a wall of thick fur. Blinking away some of her tears, she looked up at who she had unceremoniously ran into. He was a huge dark gray tom, with dark golden eyes and a white splash of fur on his chest.

"Hello, Whitekit." He leaned down to nuzzle her, but stopped short when he realized she was crying. "Oh, my precious daughter, what did they do to you?" He murmured.

"Stonetail?" Whitekit wondered. Her mother had told her and Swankit about their father, but she had only met him once or twice, and that was when she was very little. Paledove said he was very busy.

"Oh, little one." He sighed, wrapping his tail around Whitekit. "Yes, it is I. What did they do to you to make you cry so hard, sweet?" Whitekit told the entire tale to her father, who soothed her with kind words and gentle strokes of his tongue between her ears. Afterwards, once the kit had calmed down, Stonetail took her back to the nursery. He told Swankit and Whitekit to take a nap because "Paledove and I have a little something to discuss with each other." Swankit and Whitekit pretended to sleep, mainly because Featherfall, the third queen in the nursery whose kits had not yet arrived, was watching over them. Once the dappled brown she-cat had dozed off, the two kits conversed quietly, along with eavesdropping on their arguing parents.

"_Why_?!_ Why_ didn't you believe her? _Why_ don't you love her? She is our _daughter!" _

**Oooh! Getting heated out there...**

**Please read and review! Am working on alliances for these clans (Thunderclan, Windclan, Shadowclan, Riverclan, set looooong after the last hope! Submit your cats! Also looking for cats for my other story, The Great Divide. Please read and review it!) Please review! PLEEEAAASSEEE I LIKE CRITISISM! OR COMMENTS! **

**Thanks, **

**Bright**


	3. One Eye Open

"_Why_?!_ Why_ didn't you believe her? _Why_ don't you love her? She is our _daughter!"_ Stonetail snarled. "I thought you would be a wonderful mother. I thought you would be kind, caring. I thought that when you put down Whitekit on the night of her birth, that you were just exhausted, not thinking straight. Little did I know the depth of your hostility!"

"She may be my daughter by birth, but that does _not_ mean I must treat her like one!" Paledove hissed. "She is too big for her age, she isn't pretty in the least, she has a terrible attitude-"

"Paledove, those things are all in your head. For once, don't think of Swankit when you compare our daughters. Think instead of how much courage she shows! How much light and cheer her eyes hold when you aren't beating upon her with cruel words. Think about how she'll be such a wonderful warrior and how she'll surpass the other apprentices in training with her size and natural ability. Think about how she's _ours_. Didn't you always say you wanted daughter_s_?" Stonetail's voice softened. A silence greeted his words as Paledove considered what he said.

"Wow!" Swankit whispered, looking at Whitekit with respect. "Papa must _really_ love you!" She looked almost wistful. "I wish he loved _me_ that much!" Whitekit was shocked.

"Of course he loves you! He always tells me how much he loves both of us. He just wants Mama to love both of us, too." She mews. Swankit looks at Whitekit, embarrassed at how sweet and sincere her sister was, despite how she and her mother had treated her.

"I'm sorry." Swankit murmured. "For just sitting there while they hurt you. It wasn't right. No one deserves that. You forgive me?"

"Of course!" Whitekit squeaked. Featherfall grunted in her sleep at the loud noise. Both kits ducked lower in the nest and continued to speak in hushed tones.

"But-but I was so mean to you!" Swankit said, confused.

"So? You're my sister. My _big _sister." Whitekit mewed, as if that explained everything. And to Swankit, it did.

"I won't ever be mean to you again!" Swankit purred, and the two sisters curled up together, closer than ever. Suddenly, Paledove's voice sounded from outside the nursery. Both kits perked up their ears, straining to hear their mother.

"I can't promise to love her." Paledove rasped. "But I can promise to care for her until she's an apprentice. Then, she's on her own." Her voice regained its sharpness. Stonetail sighed.

"I can't agree with you, but I can support our daughters every step of their lives. They deserve at least that much from one of their parents." Whitekit sniffed and felt the tears come again. _Why can't she accept me? What did I ever do to her? I just want a mother who loves me! _Swankit pressed herself even more firmly against Whitekit's side.

"I'll always be here for you." She whispered. Whitekit smiled weakly and snuggled closer to Swankit. Both then drifted off, deep in their own dreams.

EPIC LINEBREAK

"Get up! Up! Up! Up!" Swankit's squeaky voice sounded right next to Whitekit's little white ear.

"Unnghhh," She moaned. "Why?"

"It's Blueshine's kit's apprentice ceremony." Paledove's voice sounded from nearby. Whitekit peeked open her eyes only to blink away sunlight that had snuck in through gaps in the brambles. Her mother was washing her paws in the far corner of the nest. Her glossy light silver fur shone brightly, like the moon itself had come down to rest in the nursery. _I wish I looked like her. _Whitekit thought, glancing down at her own thick white fur. It stuck up in tufts and was tangled in some places from rolling while she slept. _Maybe-maybe if I looked like her she would love me._ Swankit interrupted her thoughts.

"Well, are you coming or not?" Her dainty silver and white sister was already at the entrance of the nursery, light green eyes shining with anticipation. "Soon it'll be our turn, Whitekit!"

"Not for a while, my sweet." Paledove purred, padding over to Swankit and licking her gently on the head, her eyes full of affection. _I wish she would look at me like that._ Whitekit thought ruefully. But it was hard to stay mad at her sister, because she was one of the only cats in Shadowclan who actually accepted her, other that Stonetail. Paledove left the nursery, but Swankit waited for her little sister. Whitekit gave her pelt a quick groom and hurried over to follow her sister.

Whitekit hopped out of the nursery. Despite the clear show of favoritism by Paledove this morning, she was still in high spirits. The three bullies were leaving the nursery! _Those badger-breaths won't bother me anymore._ Whitekit smiled at the thought. She bounced over and settled by her father just as Hollowstar called the clan together.

"Today we gather here to complete one of the most important ceremonies in Clan life, the making of new apprentices." Blueshine gazed proudly at her three kits, who sat, pelts groomed neatly, beneath Hollowstar. The dark tortoiseshell tom continued, "Bouncekit, you have reached the age of six moons, and it is time for you begin your journey towards becoming a warrior. From this day on, until you receive your warrior name, you will be known as Bouncepaw. Your mentor will be Smokefang." A dark silver tom stepped forward, looking proud.

"Smokefang,you are ready to take on an apprentice. You had received excellent training from Longpelt and you have shown yourself to be strong and clever. I know you will pass down all you know on to Bouncepaw." The two toms touched noses, and Bouncepaw looked as if he was about to burst with excitement. _Lucky._ Whitekit thought with a sigh.

"Rainkit, you have also reached the age of six moons, and it is time for you begin your apprenticeship along side your brother. From this day on, until you receive your warrior name, you will be known as Rainpaw. Your mentor will be Kestrelwind." The dappled cinnamon she-cat looked shocked, but went and stood next to the young silver-blue apprentice.

"Kestrelwind,you are ready to take on an apprentice. You had received great training from the late Grayblaze." Kestrelwind lowered her head. It hadn't been too long since we lost Grayblaze to green cough and she was still sorely missed by her former apprentice. "You have shown yourself to be courageous and hardworking. I hope you will pass down all you know on to Rainpaw." After a slight pause, Hollowstar moved on, where he paired Timberpaw with Dawnstrike. The clan cheered for the three new apprentices, and then went back to their business, leaving the new mentors to bond with their apprentices. Whitekit looked around. Paledove was eating with Gingerheart, and Stonetail had disappeared somewhere. _But he's always away._ Whitekit thought with a sigh. _I guess it just comes with being deputy. _She noticed Swankit burrowing in the largest snow piles outside the nursery. Squeaking with delight, she hurried over to join in the fun. But a huge brown shape blocked her path.

"Where do you think _you're_ going?" Timberpaw's voice sounded from in front of her. Whitekit peered up and found herself locking eyes with a pair of deep green ones.

"I-I'm going to play with Swankit!" She mewed.

"Swankit's too good for you. Why don't you go sit in a dark corner? Alone." Rainpaw hissed, giving Whitekit a swat to the ear.

"Just 'cause we're apprentices doesn't mean you'll be safer, _Whine_kit." Timberpaw laughed. "Hopefully, we'll be seeing less of you, though, because we're _training_." Timberpaw gloated. "We'll be the best warriors in the clan! And when I'm leader," another cuff sent Whitekit sprawling. I'll make sure to give you the worst jobs. Ha, in fact, when I'm leader, you may never even have a job! You won't even have a Clan! Shadowclan is too good for you and-"

"Timberpaw, Rainpaw! Bouncepaw is ready to go, hurry up!" The two new 'paws shot a combined dirty look at the little white kitten. She scurried away to play with her sister. But Whitekit made sure to cast a parting glance over her shoulder. _Since when was a kit an outcast in her own clan? What did I ever do to deserve this? With my luck, I'll have to sleep with one eye open…always._

**Well, still looking for cat names for these alliances, I'm having severe creative limitations at the moment. Reviews (I'm hoping to get up to a total of 5 for this story. It's asking a lot, but hey. I'm optimistic :) ) Anyway, update later!**

**-Bright**


	4. Alliances

**Well, I tried to take as many of your amazing OCs as I could, but I was just too darn lazy to write up the entire alliances for the other clans! Sorry!**

**Alliances:**

_**Shadowclan **_

_Leader:_ Hollowstar- dark tortoiseshell tom, green eyes

_Deputy:_ Stonetail- gray tom with a white splash on his chest, golden eyes

_Medicinecat-_ Shyfawn- orange and black tortie she-cat with blue eyes and one white paw

Apprentice_- _Poppypaw

_Warriors:_

Rosedust- pinkish-gray she-cat with light blue eyes

Sharpcloud- large golden tom with dark copper eyes

Smokefang- dark silver tom, deep blue eyes

Apprentice- Bouncepaw

Kestrelwind- dappled cinnamon she-cat, amber eyes

Aprentice- Rainpaw

Dawnstrike- red tabby tom with a long tail and amber eyes

Apprentice- Timberpaw

Blueshine- silver-blue she-cat with light green eyes

Addershriek- dark brown tom with hazel eyes

Apprentice- Duckpaw

Waterfall- pale gray she-cat with dark gray paws, green eyes

Darkclaw- tortoiseshell and white tom with dark, red/amber eyes

Icegaze- white tom with silver eyes

Apprentice- Graypaw

Quietdream- gray and cream tortie with pale green eyes

Apprentice- Mothpaw

_Apprentices:_

Rainpaw- silver-blue she-cat with light green eyes

Timberpaw- brown tabby tom with deep green eyes

Bouncepaw- sleek black tom with amber eyes

Graypaw- fluffy gray and black tom, hazel eyes

Duckpaw- dark orange she-cat, blue eyes

Mothpaw- dusty brown she-cat, light green eyes

_Queens:_

Paledove- light silver she-cat, glowing blue eyes (Kits: Whitekit-large, thick furred white she-cat with golden eyes and Swankit-white and silver she-cat with light green eyes)

Featherfall- dappled brown she-cat with bright copper eyes

_Elders:_

Frecklestep- dark gray tom flecked with white

Jumpfire- Black tom with a dark orange blaze on his forehead, dull copper eyes

Lostwind- fawn colored tabby she-cat, blind in one eye

_**Thunderclan**_

_Leader: _Dewstar- large gray tom with amber eyes

_Deputy: _Nightblaze- Pure black tom with white paws and blue eyes

_Medicinecat:_ Lilyshine- dark tabby she-cat with white patches, green eyes

_**Windclan:**_

_Leader: _Wildstar- fawn colored she-cat with pale gold eyes

_Deputy: _Barkscar- white and dark tabby tom with one green eye and one amber eye

_Medicinecat: _Daypetal- white she-cat with one golden paw and pale blue eyes

_**Riverclan:**_

_Leader: _Lakestar- silver and white tom, blue eyes

_Deputy: _Shimmerpool-dark silver tabby she-cat, amber eyes

_Medicinecat: _Lionsmane-dark golden tom with thick fur and hazel eyes

**Will update soon, gotta go finish ma french stuff. **

**-Bright**


	5. What Have You Done?

**Thank for the reviews y'all! I wouldn't mind if ya went and checked out my other stories too, if you've got the time :) Tried to use as many of your OCs as I could in the Alliances**

Whitekit and Swankit dashed through the snow like snow hares, leaping and twisting and bouncing over the drifts outside the nursery.

"Betcha can't catch me!" Swankit cried out bounding forward. Whitekit made up the distance easily, her long legs sending white flakes flying in her wake. Stonetail laughed as he saw his daughters play.

"Hello there, my little warriors." He purred, crouching low to nuzzle each of their ears gently. Whitekit smiled and pressed up against her father, earlier paly forgotten. Swankit giggled as she nestled under the thick gray fur of her father's stomach. Stonetail nudged his little daughters out from under him and said, "I've got to go hunting, sweets. Will you be ready for a game of moss ball when I get back?"

"Aw, can't you teach us the hunter's crouch instead?" Whitekit asked.

"Yeah!" Swankit mewed. "We'll be apprentices soon and-"

"You'll be apprentices in three moons, you have plenty of time." Stonetail chuckled. "Now run along. I'm sure Frecklestep has a good story for you if you bring him something to eat." He winked, and walked to his patrol.

"Oooh! Maybe he'll tell us about The Great Battle!" Swankit squeaked.

"Or the adventures of Rowanstar!" Whitekit purred. "I love those!" She scampered over to the freshkill pile, and stretched to reach the nice, juicy water vole on top.

"I'll help!" Swankit meowed, running over.

"Here, stand on my shoulders." Whitekit crouched, bracing herself for Swankit's weight. "Oof!" She grunted when her sister clambered on.

"Almost…got it…there!" Swankit snatched the vole from the pile, but the extra weight was too much for Whitekit to hold. The two kits and piece of prey topple over into a heap, giggling. A pale gray she-cat looked over at them from where she sat, an amused smile on her face.

"I've never seen dead prey attack a couple of kits before!" She purred. "Have you, Blueshine?" The silver-blue she-cat sniffed and turned away. She still hadn't forgiven Whitekit for scratching Timberpaw's nose, even if it had been a whole moon. _Why can't she-no, the whole _Clan_ accept me? Just because I'm not Swankit doesn't mean they have to treat me like crowfood in the freshkill pile. _Swankit shook her out of her thoughts.

"Let's go give this to the elders! Then we can hear a story!" She squeaked. Whitekit nodded and picked up the vole. _Wow! Last moon I wasn't able to pick up a piece of freshkill. Now, I can even keep it off the ground! _She purred to herself. She tripped over her own paws as she tried to run after her sister. A loud, booming meow sounded above her.

"Three moons old and already feeding your elders? You're going to make a good warrior one day." She looked up, and found herself gazing into Hollowstar's warm green gaze. Surprised, she dropped the vole.

"We wanted them to tell us a story." She explained, her voice shaking. _He's huge!_ She thought.

"No need to be scared." Hollowstar purred. "I'm not going to hurt you."

"Well, I'm used to it by now." She muttered. Hollowstar's eyes narrowed.

"Don't pay any attention to the Clan, Whitekit. They're just following Paledove's lead. Whatever you do, just be the best you can be, don't let other cat's opinions get to you." He touched his nose lightly to the top of Whitekit's head. "Now, go on. The elders will be pleased with the prey." Whitekit nodded, picking up the piece of freshkill and padding over to the elder's den. The dull copper glow of Jumpfire's gaze shone in the dark den.

"I brought you somethin' " Whitekit mewed, her voice muffled by the fur of the vole.

"It's _you._" Lostwind hisses, looking at Whitekit distastefully. Jumpfire growls at her, his voice deep but thin.

"Don't be ungrateful. She was kind enough to bring us the pick of the pile! Isn't that right, Whitekit?" He asked, looking at her. She nodded shyly. Lostwind huffed and turned away. Frecklestep leaned towards Whitekit and said in his slow, low voice, "Don't mind her. She's just tired. Up all night coughing, poor thing. Your mother's views have gotten around…." He flicked his eyes around camp at all the cats. "And lets just say she wasn't the kindest. But I know she isn't right. You're a fine little she-cat. " He settled back into his nest. Jumpfire finished chewing his prey and swallowed, looking up at the little white kitten.

"Prey this fine deserves an award!" He exclaims with a faint purr. Frecklestep nods in agreement, his yellow eyes shining.

"Would you like a certain story, Whitekit?"

"Oh, yes please! Let me go get my sister!" She squealed. _Where in Starclan did Swankit go? I guess I was so wrapped up in talking to Hollowstar and the elders I lost her!_ Whitekit sniffed around camp, and finally picked up Swankit's scent. She followed it sneakily, and it led to the Dirtplace tunnel exit.

"Oh, Swankit." Whitekit whispered. "What have you done?"

**Where did she go? Update soon, stay tuned to find out!**

**-Bright**


	6. Why Couldn't I Be Normal?

**I'm baaaack! Practically 2 weeks without an update...whoa. **

"Swankit?" Whitekit whispered, peering around the Dirtplace, her eyes watering from the stench. "Swankit?" There was no answer. Whitekit darted through the small, smelly clearing. Swankit's silver and white pelt was nowhere to be found. Whitekit pressed her nose to the ground, flinching at the ugly smells emanating from the tunnel floor. _I've got to find her! Oh, if she's in trouble…please, Starclan! I need my sister! We promised we'd be there for each other forever._ Finally, after many minutes of sniffing, she picked up the faint trail of her sister. Whitekit followed the scent diligently, pausing at intervals to look up and around. _Have I truly gone this far? I can't even see the walls of camp anymore. _The land around her was all murky swamp, the muddy water clinging to her fur and the slimy scent of toadstools felt like a part of her after all of the time she'd spent wading through them. "Swankit?" _I think I'm getting closer. The scent is stronger. Please, please let her be okay! _"Swankit? Where are you?" At first, all Whitekit heard was the distant call of a morning dove. It was eerie, high and mournful. The large white kit ducked low again, to continue on the path, when a high-pitched shriek sounded, off in the brambles nearby.

"Help! Please help me! Ahhhh!" A small voice wailed, full of fear.

"Swankit! Hold on, I'm coming! Swankit!" Whitekit yelled, dashing to the small lump of brambles next to the holly bush. There, her sister cowered; a large shadowy figure looming in front of her, its paw raised, long claws gleaming. Swankit was lying in front of a large, dark hole's entrance. She looked up, her usually shining green eyes bright with tears.

"Run! It, it's gonna get you too if you stay! Please, Whitekit, just run away! Go!" Swankit screeched. Whitekit glanced up just as the shadow's head hit a patch of sunlight.

"Swankit! It's a badger set! We have to get out of here, I won't leave you behind!" Whitekit's golden eyes narrowed, and she leaped towards the badger, tiny claws unsheathed. The badger roared when she hit its leg, though she didn't even inflict anything. The black and white beast snarled, swiping at the white she-kit and sending her flying into the upper branches of the holly. "Come over here and fight, you lumbering ol' stinky!" She cried, wrestling with the tangled, berry-laden branches. Swankit watched, awestruck, as her younger sister bravely taunted the badger, luring it closer to her tree. The pretty silver and white she-kit ran over to the badger, clinging to its hind leg like a burr.

"You leave her alone!" She squeaked, clambering up the furry black limb. The badger grunted, turning. It's beady black eyes fastened on Swankit, and it snapped at her, just barely missing the tip of her ear. Whitekit took the opportunity to pounce, landing square on the badger's head.

"Swankit! What do I do now? Help!" She wailed as the badger shook it's head violently, trying to throw her off.

"Just hold on!" Swankit called fearfully. Suddenly, a bright golden streak flashed before her eyes, landing on the badger's back and sinking its teeth deep into a black shoulder. The gargantuan creature bellowed in pain. Another cat, a brown tabby, leaped onto the badger, and slashed at the monster's neck.

"It's Addershriek and Sharpcloud! They've come to rescue us!" Whitekit yowled happily. The badger roared and turned, snapping at Addershriek with its gaping jaws. A dark ginger she-cat leaped onto the badger's head and snatched Whitekit up by the scruff. She then leaped down and nestled the little kitten in the roots of an oak nearby.

"Just stay here, and don't make any sudden moves or noise!" She said, giving Whitekit a quick lick.

"Go, go get Swankit!" Whitekit mewed urgently. Her older sister was holding onto the badger desperately to avoid being thrown off.

"Help me!" Swankit wailed.

"I'm coming!" The dark orange she-cat yowled, rushing to help the small kit. The swift apprentice swiped at the badger's other leg, and while this new pain distracted it, she grabbed Swankit and dashed to the oak, placing Swankit by her sister.

"Wow! I thought for sure you were a goner!" Whitekit mewed, pressing her fluffy snow-colored pelt against her sister's ruffled one.

"Me, too!" Swankit agreed, still shaking. They watched the battle escalate, the two warriors and the ginger apprentice fearlessly battling the huge badger. Right as Sharpcloud was pinned beneath a giant black and white paw, a small brown tabby burst out of the brambles. Following him were three more warriors, Dawnstrike, Smokefang, and Waterfall. All four cats leaped instantly into battle, even Timberpaw, though he hesitated slightly, fought like a Lionclan warrior. Badger and cat blood sprayed the ground, staining the ferns, bracken, and mossy forest floor all a deep red. Finally, Smokefang and Addershriek set off to chase the badger once it was defeated.

"Make sure it leaves for good!" Whitekit mewed when her father had come to check on them before continuing the chase.

"I will, don't worry." Smokefang murmured. "That beast will never bother Shadowclan again, sweet." Once the two warriors had left, Dawnstrike looked down at the two little she-kits, eyes blazing like forest fires.

"You two have got some _serious_ explaining to do." He said, his voice cold. "You put yourselves, and others, in serious danger, just so you could have an adventure. In three moons you'll be having plenty of adventures! Why can't you just wait?" He hissed. Waterfall gazed at the kits, her green eyes kind.

"It was dangerous, but at least you're safe now. Let's get back to camp now. I'm sure everyone's _very_ worried about you. I can't imagine how Paledove must feel!" The emerald green orbs darkened. "Actually, I can." A slight growl had worked its way into her mew.

"We have to get Duckpaw and Timberpaw back quickly. Timberpaw has a large gash on his side and Duckpaw's got a score of claw marks down her back." Addershriek announced after inspecting the apprentices.

"You've got a couple pretty nasty ones on your shoulder, too, Addershriek." Dawnstrike meowed. The large patrol of cats continued on their way towards the camp, leaving a trail of scarlet wherever they stepped. Whitekit felt a slight stinging on her ear and flank, but she didn't say anything. _Ow! _She thought as her right ear brushed up against a thistle. _But I won't complain. Dawnstrike is mad enough at me already! It was Swankit who went out, not me! But I won't tell them. I can't let my sister down. I would never hurt her! Not ever._

"We're here." Duckpaw's large dark ginger shoulder nudged Whitekit out of her thoughts. She looked up, and gazed around the sandy clearing that made up the camp. She saw Hollowstar, his dark tortie pelt ruffled with annoyance and worry.

"Did you find-" He began, but stopped when he saw the two pale-pelted kits next to Duckpaw. "Oh, there they are. What were you thinking, going out of camp like that? You could've been seriously hurt, or even killed!" He hissed angrily. Whitekit flinched. _Wasn't it not too long ago that he was praising me? Telling me I'd be a fine warrior? Oh, Starclan, why did this have to happen? Why couldn't I be normal? _She wailed inside her head. Swankit had shrunk back as well; bright eyes dull with defeat and shame. A pelt of the palest silver wove through the crowd, frantically trying to get to the front.

"Excuse me, Rosedust. Pardon me, Shyfawn. Those are my kits up there! I have to get up there!" Whitekit's pelt warmed with happiness. _Could it be true? Is-is that Paledove? Did she just call me her kit? Could…could she _love_ me?_ She wondered. Paledove burst through the mass of cats, eyes wild and usually smooth fur spiked. Whitekit watched as her mother sprang towards Swankit, hurriedly sniffing her daughter, and gasping when she saw the deep scratch on her shoulder. Whitekit prepared herself to be checked over, fussed over, and maybe even _cared _about by her mother for the first time in her life. Paledove whirled around, blue eyes ablaze with fury. "Why did you do this to her? What have you done? _What did you do to my daughter_?!"

**Sorry bout the cliffie but I ran out of creative juices. Gotta go read and refill. But this last line gave me new inspiration! I might make a short story /or oneshot about Paledove. Just to show how she got this way...should I? Poll on ma profile. Update soon,**

**-Bright**


	7. Honor

**Paledove's been a meanie again...**

"Why_ did you do this to her? What have you done? __What did you do to my daughter__?!" _Her mother's words roared in Whitekit's ears. The fluffy she-cat was lying on the soft green moss of her nest in the nursery. Her golden eyes were open, seeing as she couldn't sleep. Her gaze wandered to the far corner of the nest. Paledove lay there, asleep. Her glossy pale silver fur looked as if the moon was in the den, resting from its long journey across the sky each night. _But no._ Whitekit thought sadly. _It's only my mother. Well, I can't even call her that. A real mother would love her kits equally, no matter what._ Whitekit thought, remembering what had happened after her mother had uttered those cold, heartless words. _Paledove's face was twisted with fury and fear and hatred. "Why did you do this to her? What have you done? __What did you do to my daughter__?!" She had yowled angrily at Whitekit. Swankit had leaped in front of Whitekit, green eyes blazing. _

"_It isn't her fault, mother! I wanted adventure! I went out of camp on my own, and she was worried so she looked for me! It's _my_ fault. Whitekit was just trying to protect me!" she had squeaked. Paledove looked at her little daughter in disbelief._

"_Of course you would say that. Don't try to keep you sister out of trouble, Swankit. Lying isn't nice." Duckpaw stepped forward. _

"_Paledove, I was the one who found the scent of the kits in the dirt place. Whitekit's scent was fresher than Swankit's and layered on top. What Swankit is saying is true. Whitekit went after her sister, and she's terribly brave to do so. Scents don't lie, Paledove." Whitekit had stared at the dark ginger she-cat, full of awe and thanks. Duckpaw dipped her head at the small kitten. _

"_What would an apprentice, _still in training_, know about layered scents?" Paledove scoffed. "Duckpaw, you must be mistaken." Then, Addershriek stepped forward. _

"_May I remind you, Paledove, that Duckpaw was the one who tracked your kits down and saved them from the badger? She has shone as much skill and bravery as a true warrior, don't you think? She is _my_ apprentice; I should know her well enough to trust in her scenting skills. If she says they were layered, they were layered." Addershriek meowed firmly. Blueshine padded up to her mate. _

"_If it weren't for these troublesome kits, our son wouldn't be injured!" She hisses. "Are you truly defending them?" The dark tabby gazed at his mate with calm hazel eyes._

"_I am not defending them, Blueshine, so much as defending my apprentice." Hollowstar shouldered his way through the surging cats up to the front of the crowd. _

"_These kits were naughty and seem to have paid the price for their adventures." He gestured at the bloody scratches on each of the she-kits. "And I say they should go to the medicine cat den and get cleaned up. I do not blame either of them, seeing as they are thoroughly ashamed of their actions." Both kits nodded, Whitekit's eyes glistening with fresh tears and Swankit staring at her paws, not daring to lift her eyes to meet her leader's. "But good has come of this unfortunate event!" Hollowstar continued. "As Duckpaw has proven herself as courageous, skilled, and compassionate as a warrior. Today, we welcome her into the ranks of the warriors of Shadowclan." Duckpaw perked up her ears, and Rosedust sat a little straighter, puffed up with pride in her daughter. Graypaw and Mothpaw's eyes shone with happiness and even just the tiniest twinge of jealousy as their sister was being made a full warrior before they even heard talk of their final assessments. "__I, Hollowstar, leader of Shadowclan, call upon my warrior ancestors to look down on this apprentice. She has trained hard to understand the ways of your noble code, and I commend her to you as a warrior in turn._ Duckpaw, _do you promise to uphold the warrior code and to protect and defend your Clan, even at the cost of your life?" His voice boomed out over the clearing in which the entire Clan had gathered. _

"_I do." Duckpaw meowed strongly, bouncing slightly on her hind paws, a small purr escaping her mouth at the end._

"_Then by the powers of __Starclan__, I give you your warrior name. Duckpaw, from this moment you will be known as Duckflight. Starclan honors your enthusiasm, courage, and quick thinking, and we welcome you as a full warrior of Shadowclan." Hollowstar smiled, walking up to the dark ginger she-cat and resting his muzzle on her head. In turn, the new warrior licked his shoulder and then turned around to face the Clan. _

"_Duckflight! Duckflight! Duckflight! Duckflight! Duckflight! Duckflight! Duckflight! Duckflight! Duckflight!" The Clan cheered, kits forgotten. Well, all but one cat had forgotten. Paledove turned away from the celebration to glare at Whitekit. The white she-kit shrunk back, and Swankit pressed against her. A golden and white she-cat padded up to them. _

"_Excuse me? Paledove? Shyfawn says I need to check on them…to make sure their cuts don't get infected. Is that alright?" Goldenpaw asked nervously. _

"_Take them." Paledove snapped. "And don't let me see that one again today. Ever." She meowed, jabbing a silver tail at Whitekit. Goldenpaw nodded and rested her tail on Whitekit and Swankit's shoulders. _

"_Come along, little ones." She murmured. "Let's go get you fixed up." After a long time spent in the medicine cat's den, complete with smelly herbs and a harsh glare from Shyfawn, Whitekit and Swankit were returned to the nursery just as night fell and the stars came out. _

_Now I'm lying here._ She finished, rolling over and pressing her back against Swankit's. _And I wish I were anywhere but._ Whitekit sighs. She watches as Paledove rises, stretches, and calmly pads out of the nursery without even a backwards glance at her two kits. _Some cats aren't meant to be mothers._ Whitekit remembered, quoting Frecklestep. She stifled a giggle when she remembered Jumpfire's response. _And then there's Paledove. She's just meant to sit there and look pretty. _The black and orange tom had grumbled. _Now, now._ Frecklestep had meowed. _She wasn't always this way._ Whitekit wished she could've met her mother back when she wasn't…well, just plain mean. _If only she could love me…_Whitekit thought. She began to drift off, soothed into a light sleep by her sister's deep, slow breaths behind her. Suddenly, she heard a soft moan. Others followed, becoming more and more miserable. A quiet rasp sounded from Featherfall's nest.

"Whitekit? Swankit? Please…help…wake up, little ones…please…it-it hurts…" The pale brown queen gasped. Her voice was little more than a whisper. Whitekit shifted her weight and got unsteadily to her paws.

"Featherfall? What's wrong? What's hurt?" Whitekit mewed, stumbling towards the queen.

"My belly…so much pain…oh, Whitekit! Fetch Shyfawn! Hurry!" Featherfall groaned, shaking. The little kit ran out of the nursery frightfully. _Feathefall's hurting! And she's already sick…I've got to get Goldenpaw! _The darkness was overwhelming, and she kept running into stumps and tripping over stones. Finally, the little kitten found her way to the medicine cat den. She prodded the closest lump. It was the smaller one.

"Goldenpaw?" The golden she-cat did not respond. "Goldenpaw!" Whitekit mewed more urgently. The sleeping form rolled over, but didn't wake. "Oh, Goldenpaw, please wake up! I don't know what I'll do if you don't wake up! Please!"

"What's all the noise about?" Whitekit heard Shyfawn grunt. The she-kit backed up slowly. _Shyfawn doesn't like me! She's terribly mean…but Featherfall! I need to help Featherfall! Be brave, Whitekit…._

"It's Featherfall! She sent me to get you. Shyfawn, she's hurting real bad!" Whitekit squeaked.

"Whitekit? Why didn't she send Paledove? You should be sleeping!" Shyfawn groaned, but raised herself to her paws and began gathering herbs.

"Because, well, I don't know where Paledove went! She just left me and Swankit…" Whitekit trailed off. Shyfawn's turquoise eyes gleamed angrily.

"A queen should not leave two young kits by themselves at night, especially not after a traumatic day like today!" Shyfawn hissed quietly.

"Please hurry, Featherfall could barely speak! She's hurt real bad but I didn't smell blood!" Whitekit mewed.

"Her kits are coming, little one. Go fetch your sister and stay with Duckflight while she sits vigil. I'll tend to Featherfall." The black and orange medicine cat started out of the den, but paused, looking back at the white kit. "Don't worry Whitekit, I'll make sure Featherfall's kitting is quick. She'll be fine, I promise." The she-cat's face softened. "You're not as bad as your mother says, Whitekit. You're a fine young she-cat, I see it clearer now." She tilted her head slightly, as if she heard something in the distance. "Yet you have a hard path to walk little one. Tread lightly, and follow your heart. I think I've kept Featherfall waiting long enough! Come along, young one. Let's go." Whitekit trotted quickly after the medicine cat, doubling her usual pace to keep up with Shyfawn's lengthy strides. _Oh, boy! New denmates!_ She thought gleefully. _Maybe we'll play mossball…or foxhunt! Or even Clans! I can't wait! Wonder what they'll look like…_ Whitekit rushed into the nursery after Shyfawn.

"Swankit! Swankit! Wake up! Featherfall's having her kits, and Shyfawn says we can go sit with Duckflight! Maybe we can help guard the camp!" Her silver and white sister's head snaps up off the moss, her bright green eyes glittering with anticipation.

"Really? Well, what're you waiting for, slowslug? Let's go!" Swankit cheered, hustling out of the nursery. "Last one there's a piece of crowfood!"

"Hush, or you'll wake the whole camp!" Shyfawn chided. Featherfall looked over at Whitekit before the little she-kit bounded out after her sister.

"Whitekit, I don't know what I" would've done without you." She whispers. "I don't know if I'd have lasted the night! I'm forever greatful, little one. Would you like to name one of them, once they're born?" The pale brown queen asks quietly.

"Oh, yes please!" Whitekit chirped.

"Are you sure, Featherfall? It's such a great honor, and for a little kit…" Shyfawn murmured. A contraction wracked the queen's body, and she coughed, a rough, hacking sound.

"Of course I'm sure! Ow! Oh, Shyfawn help me!" Featherfall pleaded, her mew raspy and soft. Shyfawn shooed Whitekit out with her tail. The small she-kit hurried off to her sister, whose silver and white pelt glowed near the entrance to the camp. In her rush, Whitekit ran right into Duckflight.

"Whoa, there! Hold up!" Duckflight laughed. Whitekit ducked her head in a slight greeting before sitting beside her sister. Duckflight looked down at both of them, blue eyes sparkling cheerfully. "You know, I have you two to thank." She purred.

"For what?" Swankit asked, tilting her head.

"For me sitting here right now! A warrior! If it hadn't been for your adventurous spirits," Duckflight nudged the two kits playfully, "Then I'd still be Duckpaw!" Whitekit purred. Looking up at the stars, she sighed. _For once, I'm actually happy. Sitting with two cats I know will be truly there for me. Please don't make this go away, Starclan. I'd give everything for a normal life. Everything._

**Hmmm**

**QOTD: If you were Whitekit, and you got to name a kit, what would it look like? What would you name it?**

**I'm running low on kit names, by the way. Got suggestions?**


	8. Perfection is Powerful

**OMG! So many kits! Ahhhh! I promise I'll use more of them later! I'm gonna need 'em haha. Anyway, some special notes for y'all:**

**Guest- I truly love the idea/name/appearance of Fadingkit! I would've totally used her if I the pelt colors fit. Soon, I promise.**

**Goldengaze- I have a special plan for Goldenkit (mwahahaha) not in a bad way, don't worry. The evil laugh was just cuz I felt like it :)**

**Leopardbreath- I adore Blazekit! I definitely know he'll have a place in Shadowclan. **

**Dragons: I looked it up, it is possible for cats to cry**

**Rollinguphigh- Hopperkit sounds absolutely adorable!**

**Shadowfur1017- I really wanna use Barkkit in this story! But if not here, he will definitely appear in The Great Divide**

**And thanks to every single one of y'all for your support and absolutely fabulous kits! *Big kisses to all* Mwah!**

Duckflight, Swankit, and Whitekit sat peacefully, gazing up at Silverpelt twinkling silently above.

"The stars are beautiful tonight, aren't they?" Duckflight murmured, smiling. Whitekit nodded, and Swankit sighed.

"A perfect night for kits! They'll get to see Starclan right away!" She purred. Duckflight chuckled and shook her head gently.

"No, silly! The kits won't open their eyes for at least a day. That's what happened to you two!" The dark ginger she-cat said.

"Featherfall says I get to name one!" Whitekit squeaked happily. Both Duckflight and Swankit looked over at her, impressed.

"That's a great honor, Whitekit!" Duckflight purred, resting her tail on the little she-cat's shoulders. Swankit's green eyes glowed.

"Really? That's amazing! You did really help her though. I wish I could name a kit…" She stared off into the forest wistfully.

"Your time will come, little one." The warrior beside Swankit smiled. "So, Whitekit, what names do you think you'll use?"

"Hmm…I like Frostkit…Shadowkit sounds good too. Blazekit sounds like a real warrior name! Or even Pinekit, or Honeykit or-" Whitekit mewed thoughtfully.

"Oooh! I know! You could name it Robinkit!" Swankit chirped from the other side of Duckflight.

"Shh! Don't be so loud! You'll wake the whole Clan!" Duckflight meowed, removing her tail from Whitekit's shoulders and slapping it across Swankit's muzzle. Swankit wrested with the large, dark ginger tail and opened her mouth to speak, only to be interrupted by a loud groan from the nursery. Whitekit swiveled her head toward the holly-covered den, golden eyes wide with worry.

"I hope Featherfall's alright! I'm gonna go see if Shyfawn needs and help! Is that ok, Duckflight?" The small white kit looked up at the ginger warrior questioningly.

"Yes, of course. Hurry, now." Duckflight urged, nudging Whitekit forward with her small pink nose. Whitekit dashed to the nursery entrance, a glowing white blur in the darkness. She came to the entrance of the large, cozy den but was stopped in her journey by a wall of black and orange fur.

"You seem to run into everyone, now, don't you Whitekit?" Shyfawn's amused mew sounded from above the kit's head. Whitekit looked up at the medicine cat, golden eyes shining with concern.

"Is Featherfall ok? I wanted to see if you needed any help!" She squeaked. Shyfawn purred.

"Don't worry, little one. Featherfall has delivered five healthy kittens, none with any sign of illness. I've given her herbs to help fend off her cold and help her milk come. I'm off to get Hollowstar now. So, sweet, if you _truly_ want to help, go get some soaked moss in the medicine den and bring it to Featherfall. Ok?" The large she-cat asks gently. Whitekit nods vigorously and rushes to the medicine cat's den. Snatching up some of the thick, emerald green moss and dunking it in the shallow pool in the back corner of the den. Goldenpaw, of course, was still fast asleep. _What a lazy goose! How could any cat _possibly_ be asleep on a night as beautiful as this, especially during a kitting! That, I'll never understand. Starclan, this has to be the most perfect night of my life. Paledove isn't anywhere near me, I got Shyfawn to like me, I get to name a kit, _and_ you're shining down on me. I hope you're proud of me, Starclan. And I wish it could always be this way._ After her short prayer to the starry ancestors, Whitekit bounded back to the nursery eagerly. In the dark, she could barely tell Featherfall's pale brown pelt from the shadows. The queen looked exhausted, but happy. Whitekit dropped the moss gently by Featherfall's head.

"I brought you something to drink." She mewed. Featherfall looked up and smiled weakly.

"Thank you, Whitekit. I'm so thirsty!" She rasped, leaning over to lap up the droplets from the moss.

"May I see the kittens?" Whitekit asked, already standing on the tips of her toes to peer over the edge of the nest. "Of course, I don't have to if you don't want." She added respectfully. Featherfall let out a light laugh that turned into a thick, phlegmy cough.

"Naturally, little one. If it weren't for you, they might not have even made it into the world!" She purred. "Take a look." Whitekit peeked over the edge of the nest and gasped with delight. Curled up by Featherfall's belly were five plump, suckling kits. Two were dark torties, like their father, but one had a bright white tail tip. Next to them was a small pale brown she-cat and a large black tom who looked as if he had snuck outside and stepped up to his belly in snow. It was all white. Last of all was a golden tabby and white she-cat who looked as if she had stolen the feathers of one of the gilded eagles that circled above the forest. Whitekit purred, but the loud thrum was drowned out by a yowl heard by the two she-cats from all the way across camp. Moments later, a huge tom crashed through the narrow entrance to the nursery, his breathing harsh and labored, but his green eyes bright. Shyfawn followed close behind.

"Honestly, Hollowstar! It's as if _badgers_ were chasing you! You must've woken every cat from here to Windclan!" Shyfawn spluttered.

"I wanted to meet my kits, Shyfawn. Is that so wrong?" The Shadowclan leader meowed, his tone barely masking his amusement at the medicine cat's frustration. Yet, the proud tom still never tore his gaze from his mate's nest. He only had eyes for his family. Featherfall smiled and reached up to brush her muzzle against Hollowstar's.

"Oh, my love, they're all beautiful, aren't they?" She whispered, looking down at her five kittens.

"Yes." Hollowstar breathed. "But, naturally they would be. They have you as their mother, love." His deep green eyes were alight with adoration for his family as he gazed upon them. "What should we name them? Five! We'll need five names! I was hoping for four, but…five! Five, Featherfall! _Five_! I can't believe it. I just about yowled my whiskers off when Shyfawn told me. I'm so _proud_ of you!" Featherfall begins a purr, but it's cut off by a rough cough.

"Better name them quickly, you three. She needs her rest!" Shyfawn meowed firmly.

"Alright, wait-what? Three?" Hollowstar asked, confused.

"Yes." Featherfall wheezed. "If it weren't for Whitekit, the kits and I might not be here. She saved us, and went to get Shyfawn for me and brought me water. I told her she could name one, in honor of what she's done." Hollowstar looks down, noticing Whitekit standing next to his mate for the first time. He nds in agreement and licks the top of the tiny she-kit's head.

"Thank you." He whispers. Whitekit flushed with pride. Hollowstar then turned back to his new family. "Now, Featherfall, do you have a preference?"

"I want to name the big black tom Blizzardkit. He looks as if he just stepped out of one." Hollowstar nodded. The black and white tom, he noticed, also had white flecks on his head, not only the white on his legs and stomach.

"Perfect." Hollowstar murmured. "And how about Doekit for the she-cat, she looks just like you, love." Featherfall beamed, and nodded with vigor, or so much as her fatigue would allow.

"Sparrowkit and Cherrykit for the two torties?" She whispered, voice growing fainter.

"Those are beautiful." Hollowstar sighed happily. "Whitekit? What have you decided on for the last little one?" The white kitten tilted her head, contemplating. Finally, she decided.

"Honeykit. She looks like a perfect golden drop of honey from the honeycomb in the medicine den." She mewed. Hollowstar purred.

"That's perfect." He breathed. Whitekit flinched at the word. _Can't anyone ever use a different word? Swankit is perfect. That's what it reminds me of. It makes me think of Paledove, and how I'm a disappointment. I'm imperfect. I'm a failure. _Featherfall licks Whitekit's cheek.

"Hollowstar, don't use that word around this poor kitten. She hears it enough from Paledove, and even the rest of the clan, and not in a good way." Hollowstar dips his head in apology.

"I'll leave you lovely ladies and gentlemen to rest." He backs out of the nursery, casting a final loving glance over at Featherfall. Whitekit settled into her nest, the excitement of the night had finally caught up to her. She heard Swankit enter the den after Shyfawn had left, and felt her older sister's feather-soft fur press against her own thick pelt as both kits fell into deep sleep at long last. _Goodnight, Starclan. Sleep well. _Whitekit thought, floating smoothly into slumber.

**Update soon! Love y'all and happy v-day :)**

**QOTD: What would you do to Paledove if you were an enemy cat who had a chance to battle her? I mean, she's abandoned her young kits in the middle of the night, she loathes one of them, she spreads lies throughout Shadowclan...etc. If y'all truly hate Paledove, I advise you to read Perfection. Maybe you'll learn something about her...something...interesting**

**Tata's! -Bright**


	9. Unfurled

**OMFG Has it really been two _months_? Are you freakin cereal? AGH! I APOLOGIZE FROM THE DEEPEST, DARKEST PITY OF MY HEART! Here's the next installment of everyone's (hopefully) favorite saga...dun dun dun...**

"Wake up!" Something prodded Whitekit, and she groaned. The she-kit rolled over in her mossy nest, eyes still squeezed shut against the inevitable morning light. She was prodded again. "Wake up!" Swankit chirped a second time. When her younger sister didn't stir, the silver and white she-cat pounced on Whitekit, the latter emanating a loud shriek of shock and pain. "Yay! You're up!" Swankit purred, green eyes shining. "It's about time!"

"Hush." Paledove meowed, cuffing Swankit over the head with her pale silver tail. "You don't want to wake Featherfall. Or the kits." Swankit ducked her head, momentarily ashamed, but it lasted a mere few seconds. He joy returned almost instantaneously.

"Mama! Did you hear? Featherfall let Whitekit name one of her kittens! Isn't that awesome?" Swankit purred, glancing towards the other nest. The new neighboring family all lay sleeping soundly. Paledove, too, shot a glance in their direction, the emotion on her face only to be described as approving and…something else. Something neither of the two kits could place.

"Yes. I heard." Paledove said, her voice sharp and not at all proud. Whitekit, who had puffed up with happiness when Swankit mentioned her shining moment, now shrunk back. Her glowing golden eyes dulled. Paledove didn't even spare her second-born a second glance after she licked Swankit quickly on the head and strode out of the nursery. Swankit's bright green eyes darkened as she watched her mother leave. The young kit padded up to Whitekit and pressed her soft pelt against her sister's fluffy white fur.

"S'all right. Stonetail and I love you. Isn't that enough? Paledove is just…I dunno. But we'll show her when you an' me are the best warriors ever! Right?" Swankit purred. Whitekit smiled weakly and nodded. "Alright. Now let's go play some mossball!" Swankit mewed. The white and silver she-kit scampered towards the exit of the nursery, Whitekit following after casting an adoring glance over at Featherfall's kits. Once outside in the bright sunlight, Whitekit blinked.

The camp looked frosty, even though the snow was slowly melting everyday. Instead of thick fluffy mounds, there were now small lumps and puddles scattered around camp. Cats milled around, joining patrols and sharing tongues. Graypaw and Mothpaw shared a shrew in the nettle patch as their sister, Duckflight, slept like a stone in the warrior's den nearby. Blueshine and Addershriek lounged in the sun side by side, and Icegaze discussed border patrols with his sister, Quietdream. The three new apprentices were practicing pounces and swipes in a corner by the elder's den, impatiently waiting for their mentors to emerge from their nests. Whitekit watched as Swankit dashed about, picking up scraps of moss and molding them together into a bumpy-clumpy mossball.

"Throw it here!" Whitekit squealed, bouncing on her toes as Swankit finished the ball. Swankit giggled and sent the ball soaring through the air. Whitekit readied herself for the grab, crouching low to the ground and wiggling her rump. The emerald sphere flew towards her-closer, and closer, until…a large brown paw swiped the mossball from the sky, and Whitekit lept up in vain, trying desperately to grab it, only to fall on her face in the dirt.

"Aw, too bad." A voice sneered from above. Whitekit spat the grainy dirt out of her mouth and blinked grim from her eyes. Through the muck, she saw eyes. _Green eyes. Malicious eyes. Vindictive eyes. Eyes of hatred. Eyes of loathing._ She thought. And her eyes are now those of fear. The little she-kit scrambled backwards, fearfully. The green eyes now shone with mocking laughter. After blinking twice, her vision was cleared. The eyes belonged to Timberpaw. _The hated one. The feared one. The all-powerful. No, not all-powerful. I am not alone! It's me and Swankit. It will always be me and Swankit. I'll never be alone. _Whitekit gazed up into the deep emerald pools of spite, and sat up a little straighter.

"Give it back." She mewed.

"Give what back? Are you missing something, _Plain_kit? Huh?" Timberpaw jeered, flicking the mossball from one paw to the other. Bouncepaw and Rainpaw advanced menacingly from either side of the tall brown tabby tom.

"Yes. Give it back." Whitekit repeated, but now her voice quivered slightly. Timberpaw only smirked.

"You gonna make me? What'd'ya gonna do about it, kitty?" The tom teased, his meow slow, as if she was too stupid to understand him otherwise.

"Give it back, Timberpaw!" Swankit's furious voice rang out as she ran to the group of bullies. "What's your problem? She's never done anything to you!" The she-kit spat, green eyes blazing.

"What's _your_ problem, Swankit? Whitekit's nothing. You should know better than to stand up for her." Rainpaw said. Swankit's bur bristled.

"You guys are the nothings! You can't push my sister around like that!" She growled.

"Who says? Whitekit isn't like you, Swankit. Whitekit isn't like any of us. She's plain, and ugly, and annoying, and no cat likes her. You're perfect-" Whitekit flinched, which only made Timberpaw grin even wider, "and she's a fox-faced brat. Get used to it."

"Look who's talking!" Swankit hissed. "Come on, Whitekit. We'll go play somewhere else." Whitekit dipped her head and followed her older sister away from the apprentices. Timberpaw's mocking yowl sounded behind her.

"Just you wait! She won't always be there to protect you, ugly!"

_Yes she will. _Whitekit thought, biting her tongue to keep from crying. _Swankit will always be here for me. And I will always be here for her. Sisters are sisters, forever. I'll never let anything get between me and Swankit. Ever!_ Whitekit scampered after Swankit's retreating form. Her sister's white and silver tail lashed through the air furiously, and her eyes were alight with tongues of green fire.

"How dare he! The mouse-brained, nasty ol' smelly badger-y fish breath! He should've never been kitted. Him and his stinkin' no-good littermates. They're not cats! They're rats in cat's fur." Swankit ranted, her voice a low growl. "Even better! Blueshine's a rat too. And Addershriek. They're _all_ rats! Filthy, disgusting-"

"Swankit," Whitekit mewed, her voice thin and strained, "Could-could you stop? I don't really wanna-can we just play? Please?"

"Oh, yeah. Okay." Swankit said, the flames in her gaze fading out until there was only the cool green depths, full of love. Whitekit smiled, and Swankit purred back, rubbing her muzzle along her bigger sister's. Whitekit scrambled off, trying to put together another mossball quickly, but was distracted when the brambles around the entrance of camp moved. _Huh? The dawn patrol's not supposed to be back yet. And Stonetail hasn't sent out a hunting patrol yet…_ She wondered, looking at the rustling fronds. Out of the tendrils emerged a strong, powerful-looking paw. A large, white paw. With curling black claws. Whitekit shuffled into the protective shade of the ferns at the edge of camp. She noticed Swankit, slowly inching her way backwards toward the nursery. Suddenly, the rest of the cat appeared from behind the flora. His red/amber eyes glowed. But he didn't seem too menacing. He had a kit swinging from his jaws.

"Darkclaw!" Icegaze called as he stood up from his seat next to Quietdream. "What's that?" The rest of the clan turned, and stared curiously at the big, dark tom.

"Did you go hunting already this morning?"

"What is it?"

"Did you bring me a chipmunk?"

"Where were you?"

"Doesn't look like any prey _I've_ ever seen!"

"It's a kit!"

"What?!"

"No, it couldn't be!"

"Darkclaw with a _kit_? You must be joking!

"But look! It _is_!"

"It's a chipmunk!"

"Are you blind? It's a kit!"

"It's so tiny!"

"Probably weak, too. We don't need _that_. We have five new ones to think about!"

"We won't be able to feed another hungry mouth!"

"Don't we have enough already?"

"It's a kittypet! I can smell it from here!"

"Eww! Don't bring it near me! It has fleas!"

"It could be a rogue!"

"What if it's parents come looking for it?"

"Well, I still think it's a chipmunk!"

"Shut up!"

"I don't trust it!"

Whitekit listened quietly to her clanmates. _This is what I hear. Everyday. This is what they say about _me _whenever I walk by. Poor kit. I know how it feels. _She watched as the little scrap wriggled in Darkclaw's jaws, and watched even further as Darkclaw padded up to Hollowstar, and set the tiny kit down by the leader's paws.

"The is my son." The dark warrior's voice rumbled. "And he will be staying with Shadowclan. His mother is unable to care for him. I am the only kin he has." Hollowstar looked the slightest bit shocked at the older warrior's assertive tone, especially when speaking to his leader. Yet, he took it in stride.

"Very well. We cannot condone a helpless kit to die alone. Featherfall should be able to take care of him. If not, there's always Paledove." The tortie tom meowed, green eyes resting on the pale silver queen. Darkclaw's gaze, too, flitted to Whitekit's mother, and she saw a flash of uncertainty. Darkclaw then glanced quickly towards Whitekit, and swung his eyes back to Hollowstar. _Oh._ Whitekit thought, looking down at her paws. _He doesn't want his son to be treated like me. That kit's an outsider too, I guess. He'll have to grow up with the gossip, just like me. Hey! Maybe we'll be friends. Yeah, we'll be best friends. But-_Whitekit looked at Swankit, who was watching curiously from the nursery, alongside Featherfall. _But I'll never be as close to him as Swankit. _

"What is his name?" Featherfall's soft mew broke Whitekit's silent contemplation of the new kitten. The pale brown dappled queen had emerged from the nursery, amber eyes soft and kind as she gazed at the little tom by her mate's paws. There wasn't even a shred of caution in her voice. It was clear. The kit would stay. Whitekit watched as Darkclaw nudged the small tom with his nose, the little kit squeaked uncomfortably. Whitekit saw the thoughts whirling around Darkclaw's head. Finally, he said: "Barkkit. His name…is Barkkit." Featherfall nodded, taking in the little tom's pelt color, a deep, dark brown with lighter paws, and a light brown tail. He squirmed, as if aware that he was under the watchful stares of every cat in the Clan. Whitekit's heart broke for the little tom. Featherfall gently picked him up by the scruff and walked back to the nursery. Once she had disappeared into the warm, sweet-smelling darkness, the camp came alive with chatter once again. And this time, it wasn't about Whitekit. It was about him. Barkkit. For once, Whitekit felt free. She would soon learn that even as the wings of liberty unfurled before her, full of endless possibilities, every bird must fall before they fly. Little did she know some fall harder than others.

**This time, when I say update soon, I mean it! I love them reviews! Comments! Suggestions! Critique! And most of all...question of the day answers!**

**Here it is, folks: How will she fall? Is there any foreshadowing predicting Whitekit's...ermm...future _situation_? What do y'all think about Darkclaw's son?**

**Love ya, and catch ya later!**

**-Bright**


	10. Slitted Eyes

**I have returned! A nice long week in New Mexico was just the inspiration I needed! Enjoy :)**

Whitekit stretched languidly, and fluffed up her thick fur. Beside her, Swankit lay sprawled out in the sunshine. Whitekit purred, and prepared to lay back down next to her sister. The Newleaf weather had been as miserable as Leafbare, and now, for the first time in the season, the sun shone. _What a lovely day_. Whitekit mused. _The birds are chirping, the grass is green, the sun is shining, and the rain has finally stopped. Everything is so peacefu-_

"Attack!" A heavy lump crashed down on Whitekit, causing her to fall down, squashed. She yowled with surprise, a rather delayed reaction. Swankit leapt up from her spot in the sun, fur bristling, until she spotted Whitekit and her ambusher. The silver and white she-kit began to laugh hysterically.

"Haha! Good one! You got her! Oh Whitekit, you shoulda seen the look on your face! Haha! Priceless!" Swankit guffawed, rolling on the ground, convulsing with uncontrollable laughter.

"Humph." Whitekit huffed. A squeaky giggle sounded from on top of her.

"Heehee! Gotcha!" The voice mewed, and the cat leaned over, dangling their face in front of Whitekit's.

"Ugh," Whitekit moaned, "Barkkit! Get off! I can't breathe!" The brown tom slid down off of Whitekit's back, blue-green eyes shining.

"Why ya so lazy today, fuzzy?" He grinned, "I'd think you and Swankit would be prancing around like puffed up starlings! I would." Whitekit looked up at her friend, confused.

"Wha?" She grunted, squinting her golden eyes against the harsh sunlight.

"Your apprentice ceremony!" Barkkit purred.

"It's today?!" Whitekit gasped. She and Swankit shared shocked stares.

"Wait, you didn't know? Cuz Darkclaw told me this morning and…wait, he said not to tell you!" Barkkit's eyes widened. "Great Starclan, I'm stupid!" He squeaked.

"You got that right, kittypet." Timberpaw smirked. "Finally, you realized."

"I though it would take forever, with that thick skull of yours." Rainpaw cackled. Bouncepaw grinned weakly.

"Yeah, thick skull." He repeated. Timberpaw's gaze lept from Barkkit to Whitekit, and back again.

"Aw, look, guys. The kittypet and Plainkit. Together forever. Isn't that sweet?" He jeered, green eyes narrowed.

"The little losers. Birds of a feather flock together, huh, Timberpaw?" Rainpaw smiles, prodding Barkkit with a claw, "Speak up, fleabag! Aren't you gonna defend yourself?"

"He's a kittypet _and_ a mute!" Timberpaw crowed. Whitekit looked up at him, golden eyes blazing.

"Don't tease him! He's my friend!" She mewed. Timberpaw just smirked.

"Yep. You're right, Rainpaw. Losers _do_ flock together! Wonder if these little chickadees are as easy to catch!" He opens his jaws, revealing sharp white fangs. The apprentice then snaps at Whitekit, missing her by a fraction of and inch.

"Stop it! Stop it, stop it, stop it!" Swankit yowled, "You three bullies, hiding behind your little taunts! Leave us ALONE!" Her light green eyes shone with burning hatred.

"Aw, now come _on_, Swankit. You're not like them." Timberpaw whined, "Hang with us, pretty. We don't need _them_." He tried to rest his brown tabby tail over Swankit's shoulders, but she shook him off.

"Go." She growled. Timberpaw shot Whitekit and Barkkit a look of loathing. Whitekit stood straighter under his gaze.

"We'll be apprentices today, Timberpaw. After that, I'll be able to fight _you_! I'll be better than you'll ever be!" She called, though her voice shook.

"Apprentice? When you're in _our _den, ugly, your life will be a living misery. Don't you forget it." Timberpaw snarled. He then sauntered away, followed closely by his siblings.

"Jerkfaces." Swankit growled, "It's a wonder I didn't shred them right there!"

"They think they're so cool." Barkkit sighed, "I don't, obviously, but Sparrowkit, Blizzardkit, Honeykit, and Doekit all, like, _worship_ them. Cherrykit and I just don't get it!"

"Just wait 'til we're apprentices!" Whitekit mewed, pressing closer to Barkkit.

"You an' Swankit don't have to wait long. Look, there's Hollowstar now!" Barkkit mewed, pointing up at the Speaking Stone with his skinny brown tail.

"Great Starclan, not now! I'm a mess!" Swankit squeaked, licking herself vigorously. Whitekit could only bounce with excitement, all thoughts of Blueshine's kits gone. As she watched the Clan gather, she saw her mother weave through the throng of cats. Paledove made her way over to her kits slowly, and once she arrived, she began to groom Swankit, ignoring Barkkit and Whitekit as if they were nothing more than another patch of grass. Stonetail had padded over as well.

"Barkkit, I suggest you go find Featherfall. She's been worrying about where you went." The deputy rumbled. Barkkit nodded, and dashed away. Shooting a glare at Paledove for ignoring her second daughter, Stonetail sat beside Whitekit and began smoothing down her fur. "We can't have you walking up there looking like you rolled in dirt and stuck twigs in your pelt on purpose, now, could we?" He purred. Whitekit smiled and nuzzled her father thankfully.

She gazed hopefully at Paledove, wondering if, just maybe, her mother would say something like "I'm proud of you" or "You'll be a wonderful apprentice" or even "You look clean". Instead, all Whitekit received was a sharp "You look like a piece of crowfood. Don't you know how to clean yourself?" from Paledove, whose icy blue gaze didn't even look directly at her daughter. More like looked past her, as if she wasn't even there. Now that Featherfall had her own kits to take care of, Whitekit couldn't even look forward to any kind of motherly touch. Swankit touched her nose to her little sister's shoulder in sympathy, and snapped at Paledove that Whitekit was being made an apprentice as well. All the she-cat did was walk away.

"All cats old enough to catch their own prey gather beneath Speaking Stone for a Clan meeting." Hollowstar called, his green eyes bright as he gazed upon his Clan. " Today, I have the honor of creating two new apprentices to Shadowclan with all their heart. Swankit, Whitekit, please step forward." The sisters padded up to their leader, trying desperately to control their excitement.

"Swankit, you have reached the age of six moons, and it is time for you to begin your journey towards becoming a warrior. From this day on, until you receive your warrior name, you will be known as Swanpaw. Your mentor will be Rosedust." Whitekit watched the pinkish-gray she-cat walk towards her sister, who proudly touched noses with her new mentor. "Rosedust, you are ready to take on another apprentice. You had received excellent training from Tigerstar and you have shown yourself to be brave and hardworking. I know you will pass down all you know on to Swanpaw." Hollowstar continued. _Wonder who mine will be! _Whitekit thought. She scanned the cats in the crowd. _There's Sharpcloud, Blueshine, Addershriek, Waterfall, and Darkclaw. Who, who who?_

"Whitekit, you have also reached the age of six moons, and you shall begin your training with a new name." Hollowstar meowed, "From this day on, until you receive your warrior name, you will be known as Whitepaw. Your mentor will be Waterfall." Whitepaw tried not to bounce all the way to her mentor, but could barely contain her happiness. She had to suppress a purr when she touched noses with Waterfall. The she-cat had whispered, "You'll be the best warrior ever!" and caused Whitepaw's heart to glow with pride. _I will be. I'll be the best!_ She opened her eyes, and saw cheering faces and waving tails. The only thing was…few cats were actually cheering her name. Timberpaw, Rainpaw, and Bouncepaw all yowled Swanpaw's name as if she were becoming leader. Blueshine did so as well. The only cats who actually called Whitepaw's name were her father, Duckflight, Hollowstar, Shyfawn and Goldenpaw, Featherfall, the elders, Graypaw, Barkkit, Cherrykit, and Addershriek. Whitepaw watched as Blueshine stared angrily at her mate, and then stalked away, kits in tow. She saw her father look at Addershriek with a mixture of pride, satisfaction, and…jealousy?_ Was that it? No, It couldn't have been. It was only there for an instant. I must've imagined it._ Whitepaw thought. _No matter. I'm an apprentice!_ Whitepaw felt her sister, her father, and Barkkit all around her, their pelts brushing hers, their voices full of pride and happiness. _This is all I'll ever need. _Whitepaw thought. She and Swanpaw looked at each other, smiling.

"Finally." Swanpaw whispered. "We're apprentices."

"Finally." Whitepaw agreed. The sky had grown dark by the time the festivities were over. Whitepaw and Swanpaw stumbled back to the apprentice den, laughing, happy and full. As they collapsed and the darkness of sleep fell across Whitepaw's vision, the last thing she saw was a pair of slitted eyes. Green eyes.

**Great to be back! I'm hoping to get some nice feedback and reviews on this.**

**QOTD: See any hidden feelings in this chapter? Some toms aren't too good at hiding their emotions...see if you can spot 'em! Barkkit plushies to all y'all who review!**

**-Bright**


	11. Burning

**Wow! Two updates in a weekend! I'm on _fire_! **

"Whitepaw! Wake up!"

A voice blazed its way through the dream-mist that clouded Whitepaw's brain.

"Eh? Wha? Not now, Swanpaw…can't you see I'm trying to sleep?" She mumbled, rolling over.

"Whitepaw! Wake up! Today, we train!" The voice came again. "If you don't wake up soon, you'll be cleaning the elder's den instead of joining your sister on a tour of the territory!" Whitepaw leaped to her paws, blinking furiously. Once her vision cleared, the she-cat could make out the large gray shape of her mentor, her sleek form framed by the pale dawn.

"I'm coming! Sorry!" She squeaked, hurrying out of the den. She quickly gave her tousled pelt a few licks, but, realizing its pointlessness, she stopped. "What're we doing today, Waterfall?" She asked, rubbing her eyes with a paw.

"First, we'll tour the territory. Then, afterwards, if you still have energy, we'll try some hunting techniques." The gray she-cat meowed. Whitepaw nodded groggily.

"O-okay," She yawned.

"Look! Plainkit can't even wake up for training!" Timberpaw mocked from the clearing. He and his siblings sat there, sharing a squirrel. His emerald glare rested on Whitepaw, and she felt the scrutiny painfully on her pelt.

"Soft as a kittypet!" Rainpaw cackled.

"I'm not a kit, Timberpaw! I'm an apprentice now!" Whitepaw meowed, eyes narrowed.

"Oh, sorry Plain_paw_! I didn't realize _ugly kittypets_ could_ become_ apprentices!" Timberpaw smirked, taking another bite of the squirrel.

"Ha! It isn't just her _paw_ that's plain, the rest of her's pretty ugly too!" Rainpaw crowed, "Don't ya think, Bouncepaw?" The black tom lowered his head, not meeting his sister's insistent green gaze.

"Um, yeah. Real ugly," He grunted, looking away. "Y'know, guys, I forgot I have to…uh…go an' clean out the nursery moss. Um, bye." He meowed, padding away quickly. Rainpaw rolled her eyes.

"Whatever." She muttered.

"Loser." Timberpaw scoffed, staring after his brother. Whitepaw took the opportunity. The apprentices were distracted, and she darted away to join Waterfall.

"What were you doing over there, enjoying the scenery?" Rosedust scolded. She stood beside Waterfall with Swanpaw, waiting. "You left us all waiting. Next time, remember your priorities. Impressing the older apprentices comes _after _training on the list." The older she-cat reprimanded. Whitepaw dipped her head, eyes downcast.

"Sorry." She whispered. Rosedust nodded, satisfied.

"Good. Now, shall we get moving? Or are there others who'd rather socialize?" She asked, gazing around at the other cats. Waterfall just looked at Whitepaw, while Swanpaw shook her head. As the two mentors started out of camp, Swanpaw dropped back next to her sister.

"Were they bothering you again? They were, weren't they! What'd they say to you? Cuz whatever they said, I'll tear their tongues out!" The silver and white apprentice said, fuming.

"It's nothing." Whitekit whispered.

"No, it's always something! They're jerks! We've gotta do something about this, Whitepaw. This isn't fair! They're a bunch of stinkin', badger-breath bullies! Whatever they get, they deserve." Swanpaw mewed, sinking her claws into the dirt.

"C'mon, Swanpaw. I'll just ignore them. Dad always says: 'Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me.' An' he's right." Whitepaw meowed, "So now, let's go catch up with them! I wanna make Rosedust actually like me." Swanpaw looked carefully at her sister.

"Whatever they do, whatever they say, whatever Shadowclan thinks, I'll always be here for you. Alright?" Swanpaw said, touching Whitepaw's ear with her muzzle.

"Thanks," Whitepaw whispered, "Now let's go catch up! Last one there's a piece of crowfood!" The two apprentices race forward, tails streaming behind them, ears laid back, laughing.

_It'll be a great day!_ Whitepaw thought. _I'm an apprentice! Nothing can stop me now! You've got my back, right Starclan? 'Cause you're the best._

* * *

><p>"And here is the border with Thunderclan. See, over there? Jutting out into the Lake? That's the Halfbridge. And, I we follow along here…this is the part of our territory that shares with the shoreline. And further this way is our border with Riverclan." Waterfall meowed, pointing with her tail towards a part of the swamp where the trees were thinning. Whitepaw and Swanpaw nodded, eyes wide, as she explained more about Shadowclan territory. They had been walking all day, testing their awareness of types of danger, and practicing recognition of different scents. The border with Riverclan would be the last stop of the tour. As the four cats reached it, Rosedust stopped, ears pricked.<p>

"What is it, Rosedust? Huh? Whaddaya hear?" Swankit chirped curiously. The gray-pink she-cat ducked down immediately, and slapped her tail over the chatty apprentice's mouth.

"Hush! Riverclan patrol incoming. Left…center. Yes. Smell them, Waterfall?" Rosedust whispered, her voice nothing more than a mere breath, so thin the wind might blow it away. Waterfall, who, along with apprentices, had joined Rosedust behind the bush, lifted her nose.

"Yes. And I detect…three cats? No, four." She murmured back.

"Why are we hiding?" Whitepaw whispered.

"We don't want them to see us, stupid!" Swankit mewed.

"Shhh!" All three cats hissed, and the little white and silver she-cat ducked down, embarrassed.

"Sorry!" She mouthed. Whitepaw tried to look through the bush. She desperately wanted to see, or even hear a Riverclan cat. Of course, she could smell them. _That fishy stench will take forever to get out of my fur!_ She thought. _But really! My first ever time seeing a cat from another Clan! Oh, won't the other three be jealous!_ She smiled smugly to herself. Then, she tried to peer through the hedge once again. It was then that they heard the voices.

"So, what do you think, Troutfur? Do you think it could work?" A small, squeaky voice sounded from beyond the bush.

"I think it's the stupidest idea I've ever heard, Flintpaw. Why don't you go back to the nursery until you grow some brains?" A deep, scornful voice replied.

"Well, what about you, Shimmerpool? Huh? Think so?" The smaller voice returned, hopeful.

"Hmm…" A new meow entered. Its tone was soft and silky, but had a dangerous edge to it. _This cat is not to be messed with_. Whitepaw thought, straining her ears forward, hoping to catch the rest of the conversation. The rumbling voice began again.

"Oh, no, don't tell me you're actually _considering_ that mouse-brained scheme?" The second voice, almost certainly a tom, cried.

"You're apprentice may have a valid idea, Troutfur. I suggest you don't underestimate him." The silky voice purred, the edge cutting through the tense air like claws through flesh. The meows were becoming louder as the patrol drew closer to the shrub behind which the Shadowclan cats lay. Whitepaw watched as Rosedust and Waterfall crept forward, little by little. Whitepaw saw Rosedust's shoulders tense as she reached the edge of the hedge. A small growl escaped her throat.

"Yeah! Didya hear that? Don't underestimate me!" The apprentice spoke. Whitepaw stalked nearer as well, until she could just barely see through the thick, tangled branches of the brambles. She spotted four figures. And they were inside Shadowclan territory!

There was a hulking brown tom, with paws as large as Whitepaw herself. Beside him was a small, bouncing, shape; a little brindle-pelted tom with shining blue eyes. The apprentice was staring up excitedly at a she-cat. Whitepaw gasped. The cat was not too large, but her muscles rippled beneath her glossy dark silver fur, crisscrossed with even darker silver tabby stripes. Her legs were long and slender, yet muscular. Her back arched elegantly, and her sleek, long tail had no hair out of place. Her whiskers were long and neatly groomed. But her eyes…her eyes were blazing amber, like the brightness of the setting sun upon a wildfire. They _burned._ Behind the main group, a skinny brown and white she-cat followed, green eyes wide, fur on end and quivering.

"You going to keep up, or shake in a corner by yourself, Hazelnose?" The silver she-cat, _Shimmerpool?_, said, her tone mocking. The big brown tom, Troutfur, laughed. Hazelnose shivered, but padded slightly closer to the patrol.

"Who is that cat? Shimmerpool?" Whitepaw whispered, flicking her head towards the silver cat.

"Her? That's the Riverclan deputy." Waterfall murmured, "She's…well, she's interesting. Very ambitious. Don't cross paths with her, Whitepaw. You might not live to regret it." Whitepaw's eyes widened, but she was broken out of her stunned silence when Rosedust stood up. The older warrior beckoned with her tail, and the rest of the group followed suit. Soon, all four Shadowclan cats were standing tall and proud in marsh, staring down the oblivious Riverclanners. Finally, Rosedust spoke.

"Well, well, well. What do we have here?" She mused. Shimmerpool and Troutfur whirled around.

"What do we have here, on our territory?" Rosedust repeated.

"Why, it looks like trespassers!" Waterfall meowed slowly. "Fish-faced trespassers, I do believe." Whitepaw looked curiously at her mentor. _What are they doing? They're…they're _mocking_ the Riverclan patrol! _Waterfall shot a look at Whitepaw, and Swanpaw as well. The look said, "play along". Whitepaw nodded, barely noticeable, and then plastered a smirk onto her face. It felt fake.

"And why would fish leave the river?" Whitepaw sneered. "Clearly, they don't have the wits to survive like true cats!" Whitepaw watched Shimmerpool carefully…_Was that a flicker in her eyes? Something seemed…off. I must've imagined it! I'm seeing things! _Rosedust glanced at Whitepaw, and gave her a fleeting nod of approval. Pride and courage rose in the apprentice's heart. Swanpaw caught on quickly.

"Poor kitties! You look so out of place! Like a fish out of water!" Swanpaw simpered, sickeningly sweet. Whitepaw laughed. The Riverclan patrol bristled, all except Shimmerpool. Her fur lay flat along her spine, and her whiskers never even twitched.

"Hiding beneath your taunts and shadows? Looks like some things never change…" The Riverclan deputy smirks. Whitepaw felt her fur rise and heat rushed to her face. Waterfall bent down next to her.

"Don't show weakness." She hissed and stood again. "Shimmerpool. You and your cats are on Shadowclan territory. Just _asking_ to get your tails whooped today, hmm?" The silver cat did not reply. Instead, Whitepaw watched the subtle signs of her body. The slight flick of her right ear. The shift of one paw in the silty soil. The barely there raise of her silver tail. All of a sudden, the courage left her. She no longer felt the raw, throbbing power through her veins. Instead, she felt ice. Cold, hard, fear.

"Get back." Rosedust muttered.

"What?" Whitepaw whispered, her paws frozen to the marshy forest floor.

"I said: Get. Back." Rosedust hissed quietly.

"I-I don't-" Whitepaw stuttered.

"Riverclan," Shimmerpool said softly, "Attack!" She yowled the second word, launching herself into the air. And straight for Whitepaw.

_Those eyes…they're burning!_ I'm_ burning! Starclan, save me!_

**Uh oh! **

**QOTD: How ya liking Timberpaw and Rainpaw? Whaddaya think of Bouncepaw?**

**I LOVE REVIEWS! AND I LOVE MY REVIEWERS EVEN MORE! Questions, comments, critique, anything! I will answer all in the next chapter!**

**Love y'all soooooooooo much! **

**-Bright :)**


	12. Always, Forever, Completely Alone

**Well, folks, it's that time again. Time for another installation of: PROMISE! TADA! Wow, 93 reviews!**

_She-she's coming! At _me_! I haven't even had any battle training yet! Please, Starclan, I'm too young to die!_ Whitepaw thought, frozen in fear, as the Riverclan deputy launched herself towards the young apprentice. _Her eyes…like flames. It's as if I can feel their heat! Please, help me! _ The glowing, fiery orbs loomed closer. Her legs, like lead, were heavy, unmoving. She waited in fear as the bright eyes of her enemy consumed her…_This is the end. Starclan, tell my father and sister I love them. Tell my friends I wish them luck. Tell my mother…that no matter what, I am her daughter. And that I forgive her._ Whitepaw thought.

She closed her eyes, and waited. The roar of battle was muffled, mere background noise. She could only hear herself, as she counted down. Counted her seconds to Starclan.

_One,_

A breeze stirred her fur.

_Two,_

A weight crashed onto her chest. Claws dug into her skin, sharper than the brambles of the nursery. She felt Shimmerpool's hot breath on her face.

"Say goodbye, sweet." The silver cat whispered.

_Three_.

The weight was lifted. Chunks of fur tore from her pelt, and Whitepaw felt trickles of blood, but the stabbing pains had fled. Her golden eyes flashed open, like miniature suns. She sat up, shaking the fog from her mind. There, on the ground in front of her, Waterfall wrestled with Shimmerpool. The two she-cats slithered like snakes, completely entwined with each other, twisting and turning and sliding in a vicious dance. Waterfall's green eyes shone with malice, while Shimmerpool's burned like wildfires. Rosedust was locked in combat with Troutfur, and Swanpaw rolled on the ground with Flintpaw, snarling and scratching, natural instincts taking over, due to lack of training. Whitepaw's pelted bristled nervously. From the looks of it, Riverclan was winning. Shimmerpool had Waterfall pinned, and the gray she-cat was limp with defeat. Troutfur was dominating his battle with the older Shadowclan queen, scoring a painful blow across her flank. Hazelnose, the scrawny she-cat who had hung back originally, was now engaged in fighting Rosedust as well, her strikes strong despite her timid appearance. Whitepaw glanced from her mentor to her clanmate to her sister, torn between decisions. Finally, Waterfall saved her.

"Whitepaw! Addershriek…patrol…Thunderclan border…get help…" She gasped. Her eyes were wide and wild with desperation. "Go!" She wheezed. Whitepaw, without a second thought, darted back into the glades, grass and mud squishing under her paws as she bolted through the undergrowth. One sentence replayed through her head, over and over and over, _"Addershriek…patrol…Thunderclan border…get help… Addershriek…patrol…Thunderclan border…get help…"_ Whitepaw ducked beneath low hanging branches, fern fronds and bushes whipping her face and stinging her eyes. She panted heavily as she raced to find the other patrol, the sound of her breathing becoming a rattling rasp. Whitepaw's paws felt heavy and slow, her legs tiring.

_I haven't run so fast…so far…in forever! Actually, I never ran this hard in my life!_ She thought. Gasping for air, the new apprentice slowed. Pausing beneath an elderberry bush to catch her breath, Whitepaw felt like collapsing. _T-the territory! It's so _big_! I…don't think I can make it. Everything stretches forever. Where am I?_ Fearfully, she scented the air. Nothing smelled familiar. Gazing around, Whitepaw saw tall pines and cedars looming above. Beside her, strange looking mushrooms and berries peppered the ground and branches. A bullfrog croaked somewhere behind her, and she jumped at the sound. _I have no idea where I am! I'm lost! _ She panicked. Turning nervously, Whitepaw shivered. _Everything looks the same. I-Is it me, or is everything coming closer? No! The forest is trying to swallow me! Then I'll never get home! _ Whitepaw wanted to wail aloud. _Wait, no. I don't want to get home! I want to get help! Waterfall…Rosedust…Swanpaw…they're counting on me! Come on, Whitepaw. You can do this. Think. Think. _The small she-cat closed her eyes. Letting only her sense of smell and heart guide her, she turned. Feeling soft, warm earth beneath her pads, the apprentice pretended she was part of the forest. Whitepaw imagined herself melting into it, becoming one with the trees, and earth, and sky. She could feel everything. And, in an instant, she knew where to go. _This is what being a warrior is all about! _She thought. _Instincts. Once a wildcat, always a wildcat. I'm a kit of the forest. I know it. Someday, I'll know it _all. Whitepaw decided. Opening her eyes, she saw before her a faint glimmer of blue between the fronds of bracken. Racing forward, she chased the light, following it as if it were the only glimmer of hope in all the Clans. _Finally_, through the thin pine trees, she spotted a gray and cream pelt, and, just barely, she could make out a striped brown shape winding side to side about the underbrush. Beside it moved a large golden form. With a new burst of hope and speed, Whitepaw hastened her way around the offending bushes and finally reached the patrol.

"Addershriek!" She called. The large brown tabby turned, his hazel eyes resting upon Whitepaw.

"Whitepaw? What is Starclan's name are you _doing_ out here? You're supposed to be with your mentor! Where's Waterfall?" The tom asked, unable to mask his surprise at finding the young cat along the Thunderclan border. His hazel eyes narrowed sternly.

"We were-*gasp*-attacked. At the Riverclan border. Sent me to get help!" Whitepaw panted, the run had exhausted her once again. "I was lost, but I found you!" She added.

"Let's go." Addershriek meowed, turning to his patrol, which consisted of Quietdream and Sharpcloud. "We've got hope we're not to late!" The warrior meowed, bounding off into the depths of Shadowclan's marshy forest. Sharpcloud and Quietdream followed without hesitation, leaping after Addershriek and quickly disappearing into pine-cast shadows. _Darn it! Why does no one ever wait for me?_ Whitepaw thought indignantly as she hurried to catch up with the patrol. _Maybe because no one likes you,_ A tiny voice in the back of her head sneered. She growled. It sounded suspiciously like Timberpaw. _You're wrong! It-it's 'cause they wanna help the others. Yeah, that's why. _She reassured herself. _As if!_ The voice laughed. _They hate you, and you know it. It's plain as the whiskers on your face. Did you see the way Addershriek looked at you? That wasn't surprise. Or even annoyance. It was _disgust_. He doesn't like you, and never will. Rosedust? This morning she treated you like you were a stupid kit. And Quietdream and Sharpcloud? They don't like you either. They only follow Addershriek's orders because he's more experienced. Otherwise, they would've sent you home like the kit you are._

_What about Waterfall? If every cat hates me, why's she so kind? And Stonetail, and Swanpaw, and Duckflight, and Goldenpaw, and Featherfall, and Hollowstar? And Barkkit? Huh? _Whitepaw snapped back. The voice just chuckled.

_Silly, naive Whitepaw. Stonetail and Swanpaw pity you. That's the only reason they stick around. Waterfall? You're her first apprentice. She needs to prove she isn't completely incompetent. Duckflight's just happy your screw-up got her a warrior name. Goldenpaw, her job is to heal clanmates. Especially the ones who everyone else _obviously_ could care less about. Featherfall and Hollowstar? He's the leader. It's his duty to make his clanmates feel comfortable. He didn't want _you_ to be the one to name his kit. You could see it on his face. He thanked you because you saved his mate. That's it. Featherfall, it's that whole 'pity the poor dear' shtick. Honestly, if it were up to her? You could go rot in a fox's den if it were between you and any other cat. Finally, Barkkit. You're the only cat who would actually _befriend_ the little scrap. The only one stupid enough, anyway. He knows he wouldn't have a chance with anyone else, so he settles for you. Face it, Whitepaw. You'll always be the outcast. The second-best. Now, see, Swankit's a winner. She's pretty, and funny, and smart. Talented, too! You think you can compare to that? Think again, kitty. She's the one who's in charge. You? You're that lone, lonely loner. And you will always be._

"NO! NO! Shut up! That isn't true!"Whitepaw cried, stopping trailing the patrol. "NO! Those are lies! Stop it! Get out of my _head_! Leave me alone!" She began to cry, and hunched over, shuddering.

_Alone. Alone forever. Alone. Alone. Always, forever, completely alone. Alone. Alone. _The little voice nagged, chanting in a singsong voice.

"Stop! Stop it! Shut up!" Whitepaw wailed, curling up in the dead leaves that lay on the ground. She covered her ears with her paws. "Go away!"

_Alone. Alone forever. Alone. Alone. Always, forever, completely alone. Alone. Alone._

"Stop! Leave me be!" Whitepaw whimpered, squirming.

_Alone. Alone forever. Alone. Alone. Always, forever, completely alone. Alone. Alone._

"Please. Please, just go away." She sobbed.

_Alone. Alone forever. Alone. Alone. Always, forever, completely alone. Alone. Alone._

"Please." The white she-cat whispered. "Leave me…alone."

_There! You said it yourself, kitty. You're a loner. Always have been, always will be. No one likes you! _The voice cackled. The maniacal laugh faded, slowly, until it was no more than an echo, a memory. Whitepaw blinked her eyes, and shook away the tears.

"It's right." She sighed. "I'll never be good enough." Struggling to her paws, she held back another flow of tears. _Be strong._ She thought, bracing herself for another barrage of voices. None came. "I really am alone." She whispered. Slowly, Whitepaw began walking back to the battle.

Once she returned, the fight was already over. There was no sign of the Riverclan cats, other than a fishy stench on corner of the territory. Rosedust was limping heavily, bleeding from her right forepaw, ear, and flank. Waterfall's shoulder was terribly gouged, and there were scores of clawmarks down her spine. Swanpaw had a vicious scratch over one eye, and the other was painfully swollen. Sharpcloud, Addershriek, and Quietdream escaped with nothing more than a few scratches. They were all huddled in the tiny clearing when Whitepaw arrived, with Addershriek inspecting all of the she-cat's injuries. Swanpaw looked up at the sound of her sister's pawsteps.

"Whitepaw! Where were you? Sharpcloud said you got lost when you went to find them. Did you again?" She asked. Whitepaw shook her head.

"No. They-were too fast. I couldn't keep up. And I was tired from the run there." She mewed sheepishly, not meeting Swanpaw's curious gaze. The white and silver she-cat padded up to Whitepaw, and nuzzled her.

"I was worried about you." She purred. Whitepaw wanted to smile back, but she couldn't._ She doesn't _really_ love me. It's just pity…s_he thought, pulling away from Swanpaw.

"What's wrong?" her sister meowed, confusion lighting in her pale green eyes.

"Nothing." Whitepaw said, voice devoid of emotion. _You don't really like me_. "Just tired, that's all. I want to go home."

"Oh-okay." Swanpaw whispered, backing away slightly.

"We should head back to camp. The sooner we get you three to Shyfawn," Addershriek meowed, gesturing towards the three she-cats, "The better. Step lively, let's make this quick." Whitepaw turned and followed the brown tabby, not waiting for her sister of Waterfall to walk besides. _I don't need their pity. _She thought. _I guess it's better off if I'm alone. _The trek back was long and silent. Whitepaw could feel the stares of her sister and mentor burning into her back, and didn't bother turning around. Sharpcloud and Quietdream walked at the back of the Patrol, and Whitepaw could hear Rosedust and her golden mate talking quietly. _Probably about me, and how much of a nuisance I am._ She thought bitterly. Once the party reached the bramble-entrance of Shadowclan camp, Whitepaw headed straight for her nest. Stonetail had padded up to her worriedly, and asked if she was all right, and told her to eat something, but she brushed him off. _You never loved me._ She thought. She heard Duckflight's friendly call, but walked on. _You used me_. She decided, heart heavy. Barkkit bounced toward her from the nursery.

"Wow, Whitepaw! You had and adventure! Look, you're all bloody! Will you tell me about it, huh? I heard papa say you ran into Riverclan, right? What did they look like? How many were there? You've gotta tell me all about it an-" He meowed, but she cut him off.

"I'm going to bed." She turned her back on her little friend, and walked away, straight to the apprentice den. She never did see the look on his face. The tiny tom looked as though he were being crushed by a thousand boulders. _I'm a last resort. You're lonely._ Whitepaw thought, collapsing in her nest. She heard the murmurs of her clanmates outside the den, and was about to go out and tell them about the thrilling adventure. But she remembered. _Nobody likes me. I'm alone._ Closing her eyes. She fell asleep.

Whitepaw's dreams were restless. She was alone in a dark forest, surrounded by foxes. Their faces were cruel, their teeth large and sharp and white. Their russet pelts glowed like crimson blood, and they slowly came closer, closer…suddenly, their faces morphed. They became the faces of her clanmates. There was Timberpaw.

"Ugly kittypet. _Swanpaw's_ beautiful!" He sneered, his fox body taking a step forward. Next to his, the fox's face shifted into Rosedust's pink-gray visage.

"Whitepaw, you're a nuisance. At least _Swanpaw_ is smart enough to become a warrior! You'll never make it!" She frowned. After her is Rainpaw, her mint green eyes shining maliciously.

"You'll never be a true Shadowclan cat! But _Swanpaw_ will be the best." She grinned.

Last was Paledove. The pale silver queen looked at Whitepaw, face expressionless. As if she was looking at nothing.

"Daughter?" She asked, "I have one daughter. Swanpaw is perfect. Who are you?" _Out of all of them, you hurt the most, mother. Can't you see me? Am I really this disposable to you? _Paledove looked past Whitepaw, and the others began to close in. They smiled, whispering:

"You are nothing. You are nothing. Alone. Alone. Alone." They repeated, slowly drawing nearer to Whitepaw, Timberpaw got a inch away from her face, and he morphed. Back to a fox. His jaws open wide, exposing razor-sharp fangs. They closed around her head, and the world went black.

Whitepaw woke up. She had fallen asleep even before sunset, the glowing orb was falling behind the trees now. Its rich, orange-gold hue cast a soft, warm light over camp. Whitepaw saw the fresh-kill pile. At the top sat a large, juicy squirrel. Her stomach rumbled. She hadn't eaten anything all day. Emerging slowly, the apprentice made her way over to the prey pile. Almost there, she could practically taste the salty-sweet meat, and could almost feel her stomach grow heavier at the very thought. Then, all of a sudden, it wasn't the squirrel in her line of vision, but her sister. Swanpaw hurried toward her. Her swollen eye was covered with a sticky leaf wrap, but the other was open wide.

"Whitepaw! Could we talk? Please?" She begged.

"What's there to talk about? Look, I'm hungry Swanpaw. Could you _leave_?" Whitepaw growled, pushing past her sister. The silver and white she-cat stared at her sister in disbelief.

"Why are you so _mean_? I'm trying to help! Whitepaw, tell me what's wrong!" Swanpaw meowed, coming close to Whitepaw again. The white cat glared at her.

"Don't you get it? Leave. Me. Alone." She hissed. Swanpaw's face sunk with sadness, and then rose again with anger.

"What's the matter with you? Whitepaw, was it something I did? Something I said? Just tell me! I hate seeing you like this! This isn't _you_!" Swanpaw cried.

"Maybe it _is_ me, okay? I don't need you looking out for me, Swanpaw. I'm not your kit. I don't need your help! I don't need your _pity_!" Whitepaw spat.

"Pity? _Pity_?" Swanpaw repeated, eye narrowed. "You seriously think I _pity_ you?"

"Isn't that what this all is?" Whitepaw growled. "Some sort of pity party? You never liked me, you just felt bad for me! That's why you're so nice! I don't _need_ that! I'm perfectly fine." A deep voice sounded from behind her, worried.

"Whitepaw? Swanpaw? What's going on? Why are you fighting? Whitepaw, are you all right?" Stonetail meowed, stepping out beside his daughters. Golden eyes, so much like Whitepaw's, gaze anxiously at the apprentices.

"Am _I _all right? Why? Why do you ask _me_? I'm not a little kit, Dad. I don't need pity! I don't need your sympathy! I can deal with things perfectly fine, _alone_." She hissed. Then, the realization of what she said hit her. _I admitted it. I said it. Maybe I really _am_ alone._ She thought, miserably, angrily. _The voice, the Clan is right. I am nothing. _

**OKay, y'all! What're ya thinkin right now?**

**QOTD: What do you think of Whitepaw and her little conscience?**

**Anyway, I'm hoping for _at least_ 7 reviews! Let's hit 100, people! Whitepaw and Swanpaw plushies to the 100th reviewer!**

**-Bright :)**


	13. Foolish

**Hey y'all! Thanks so much for all the reviews! Whitepaw and Swanpaw plushies to Lilystripe608! And Stonetail plushies to everyone!**

"Oh, Whitepaw. I never pitied you for one moment. The reason I look out for you so much?" Stonetail murmured, placing a tail over her shoulder, "I love you. I love both of you," He meowed, pulling an angry Swanpaw in with a foreleg. "If only the whole Clan could see how wonderful you are…then, I'd be happy. But I never pitied you, sweet. I love you." Her father's golden eyes warmed her heart, like Newleaf rays.

"Really?" Whitepaw asked. She desperately wanted to believe him, with all her heart.

"Really." Stonetail sighed, licking her on the head. "You're a beautiful, smart, talented, amazing cat. I'm _proud_ to say you're my daughter."

Swanpaw huffed. "Then what am I?" She muttered. " 'Cause clearly, I don't mean much to _her_!" She pointed a silvery-white tail at Whitepaw, who immediately bristled in response. Stonetail soothed them both.

"Oh, Swanpaw. I love you too. You are gorgeous, funny, and always there for every cat," He meowed, looking at Whitepaw, "Because you love them." Swanpaw looked at her sister.

"Yeah, see? I was only trying to help!" She complained.

"Well, it didn't seem very much like help." Whitepaw grumbled.

"Well, I was worried about you. You came home acting like a badger who ran into a skunk! Stupid furball. I wanted to help 'cause I love you. I mean, a cat only ever _has_ one sister." Swanpaw purred. Whitepaw smiled back, tentatively.

"If anyone's the stupid furball, it's _you_! You expect me to talk to you when you're interrogating me? That's like thinking the skunky-badger will wanna play moss ball!" She grinned, pushing her sister with a paw.

"Yeah, well, ya never know. In the end, the skunky badger's sister always swoops in to save the day!" Swanpaw giggled.

"Huh. Now how would she comfort a skunky badger?" Whitepaw asks.

"Well, she would tell her that she loves her no matter how bad she smells!" Swanpaw purred triumphantly.

"Now _that_ would earn skunky's sister a one way trip to a fox den! At dinner time!" Whitepaw laughed, tackling Swanpaw.

"Agh! No! I'm being attacked by a skunky badger! HEEELP! Stonetail! HEEEEELP!" Swanpaw chokes out between fits of laughter as Whitepaw tickles her.

"Papa badger, to the rescue!" Stonetail meowed, tackling Whitepaw and rolling over in the pine needles, wrestling the white she-cat. Whitepaw giggled, swiping her father with a paw as he pinned her. He nuzzled her belly, making her laugh even harder.

"Stop! Daddy, that tickles!" She gasped.

"Wait for meeeeee!" Swanpaw shrieks, pouncing on her father and sister. Swanpaw landed on Stonetail's back, and clings on for dear life as he shook. Taking advantage of the distraction, Whitepaw crawled up her father's legs, and the burly tom collapses under the weight of both his daughters. The three tussle on the ground, laughing until they're unable to breathe. Finally, after lying on the camp floor for a few moments, gasping for breath, Whitepaw piped up,

"I'm _starved_! How about some food?" She asked, looking over at her father and sister.

"Yeah! My stomach is so empty, it's gonna start eating itself!" Swanpaw mewed, getting to her paws. Stonetail purred and nodded, shaking the pine needles and moss scraps out of his thick gray pelt. Whitepaw bounded off, and snatched the squirrel off the top of the fresh kill pile. Happily dragging it back to her family, she thought, _Wow! They do love me! And now, this squirrel will taste even better. I have cats to share it with! You know, maybe I'm not alone after all…Thank you, Starclan. I love you._

The white pelted apprentice grinned as she took a large, messy bite of the squirrel. The sweet yet tangy flavor enthralled her, and squirrel juice ran down her chin. Swanpaw giggled when she saw her sister, and Whitepaw made her squeal as she chewed loudly, mouth open, right in Swanpaw's face. Stonetail chuckled as he watched his daughters.

"Whitepaw, sweet, that's enough now. Let Swanpaw eat her share in peace." He purred, leaning down to push the squirrel closer to his eldest daughter.

"Thanks, Dad." Swanpaw chirped, leaning down and taking an equally sloppy mouthful. She munched with her jaws wide, and Whitepaw shrieked and ran, Swanpaw chasing after her. "Revenge!" The silver and white apprentice yowled, mouth full, dashing behind Whitepaw.

"No! You'll never get me!" She called over her shoulder.

"Wait! Whitepaw! Look out!" Swanpaw exclaimed, skidding to a stop.

"You can't fool me that easily!" Whitepaw yelled, smiling, still running.

"No, seriously! Look out! Quick! Stop!" Swanpaw cried. Whitepaw just shook her head.

"Stop! Whitepaw, sto-" Swanpaw shrieked, but it was too late. The fluffy white apprentice went crashing into the cat, both soaring through the air, and tumbling to the ground in a furious tangle of white and silver limbs.

"I am so so so _so_ sorry!"" Whitepaw gasped, struggling beneath the larger cat.

"You clumsy apprentice!" The other spat. Whitepaw froze. _I know that voice! It's-it's her! No!_ The small she-cat found herself staring into the crystalline blue eyes of her mother.

"P-Paledove?" She squeaked.

"You foolish klutz! Mousebrained furball! How dare you!" Paledove growled. "Crashing into warriors, what were you _thinking_? No, that's it. You _weren't_ thinking." She snarled.

"I'm sorry, mother." Whitepaw whispered.

"You are _not_ my kit." Paledove hissed, eyes narrowed. "You will _never_ be my daughter. You are a _disgrace_. I have one kit. Her name is Swanpaw. Now get out of my sight." The pale silver warrior growled, untangling herself from Whitepaw. The apprentice felt nauseous. _My-my own mother! She denied me, again. She'll never love me…why can't I be like Swanpaw? What's wrong with me?_ Whitepaw's stomach lurched, from grief, confusion, anger. In an instant, the huge chunk of squirrel came up from her stomach, and spewed itself all over Paledove. The silver cat shrieked.

"You disgusting, rude little 'paw! Look what you've done! Get away from me! Leave! Leave, and never come back!" Paledove screeched. Whitepaw stumbled to her paws, and took a few steps before throwing up again, red, orange, and brown gunk spattered her white pelt and Paledove's dainty silver paws. Suddenly light headed, Whitepaw sank to the ground, black spots dancing in front of her fuzzy vision. She could hear shouts, in voices she recognized. Stonetail, Paledove, Blueshine, Sharpcloud, Timberpaw, Hollowstar. They merged together, forming a raucous cacophony of sound, where only one voice was clear. Whitepaw sagged against a warm shoulder.

"Whitepaw?" A worried mew sounded through the chaos. _Swanpaw_… She thought.

"Is she all right? What happened? Whitepaw?" Another mew came from the other side, this one higher and squeakier. _Barkkit? I-is that you?_ Whitepaw's mind asked amidst the jumble of her senses.

"I hate you! Why can't you understand she's a terror? She was never meant to be born!" Paledove's hawk-like shriek emerged from the tangle.

"You're heartless! She's our daughter!" Stonetail's deep shout fought Paledove. The voices fused together once more, and the blurry shapes and colors began to fade. Whitepaw felt her stomach heave once again, and doubled over. Nothing came up. She hacked up foul air, that was all. Finally, a soothing meow arrived by her side.

"It's okay, dear. Everything will be all right. Just come with me…everything's going to be okay…"

Whitepaw nodded tiredly, and tripped over her own paws as she tried to follow the voice. Eventually, it led her to a soft nest. A soft paw nudged three small shapes into her mouth, and she swallowed. They brought her to a place where her already muted senses dulled further, where she let go, and fell into a deep sleep.

When Whitepaw woke, she found herself in the medicine cat den, in a nest of woven twigs and feathers. Shyfawn sat beside her, diligently scrubbing the smelly orange stains from Whitepaw's pelt with a soaked lump of moss.

"Shyfawn?" Whitepaw mewed, surprised when her voice sounded as thin and raspy as a dry reed. The black and orange tortie looked up, deep turquoise eyes meeting the white apprentice's.

"You're awake." She purred. "Now you can wash yourself!" The she-cat mewed with a chuckle. "No, I won't do that to you. Just relax, Whitepaw. You had a rough day yesterday." Suddenly, the memories of the day before hit the young she-cat. Whitepaw groaned and closed her eyes.

"Did that all really happen?" She moaned.

"Yes. But you'll be fine. Just a little stomach bug. Must've been that squirrel…" Shyfawn murmured, continuing to wash the fluffy white pelt of the apprentice. Whitepaw cringed. _It wasn't the squirrel._ She thought miserably. _It was mother…and the shame…why can't I be like Swanpaw? Or look like mother, instead of this? I'm so plain. So ugly. And my paws are too big. And my ears stick out too much. I'm too pudgy. My fur's too thick. Oh, why am I so terrible? If only Paledove loved me…if only I was pretty…_

"Whitepaw? Hello?" Shyfawn's voice brought her back to the present.

"I'm sorry, what did you say?" She asked, blinking.

"Apprentices. Always have their heads up in the clouds. I _said_, you can go train today, but to take it easy. No prey until at least midday , and drink water in sips, not gulps. Then, you'll be back in perfect condition." Whitepaw flinched again. _I'll never be perfect…_

"Um, hello? Shyfawn? Whitepaw?" Barkkit's small voice sounded from the entrance to the den.

"Yes?" Shyfawn meowed, turning around. Her eyes narrowed. "Oh. It's you." The small brown tom kit looked at the ground.

"I-I was wondering if Whitepaw was feeling better?" He asked timidly.

"Yup. I'm okay." Whitepaw piped up before Shyfawn could speak to Barkkit. The medicine cat's disapproval of the young tom was made quite clear in her gaze.

"Well, Whitepaw, if you're feeling that much better, go outside. Stretch your legs, and go find Waterfall. I'm sure she'll be happy to begin your second day of training." Shyfawn said, her voice softening as she spoke to Whitepaw. The apprentice nodded. Rising up from her nest, she followed her friend outside into camp.

The stares that greeted her burned like fire.

**QOTD: What would you do if you were Whitepaw right now? Do you like Stonetail?**

**Love y'all!**

**-Bright**


	14. Triumphant

**Hello my loyal Whitepaw followers! Time for our newest installation of: Dun dun dun! Promise!**

**R&R&E (Read, Review, and Enjoy!)**

Whitepaw felt the gazes of every member of the Clan on her as she stepped out of the medicine cat's den with Barkkit. There were the withering glares of Timberpaw and Rainpaw. The half-hearted scowl of Bouncepaw. The disapproving looks of the senior warriors, and the disgusted ones from Blueshine and others. Whitepaw wish she could shrink, or disappear, or somehow become the beautiful, talented cat everyone wanted her to be. She lowered her eyes to the ground and walked slowly beside Barkkit. The young tom pressed his pelt to hers, ignoring the looks from the Clan.

"So, whadda'ya wanna do, huh? Mossball, Catch the Frog, Fox Hunt, Badger Invasion," The little kit chirped, rattling off all of Whitepaw's favorite kit games. She just sat down in a slump.

"I don't know. Whatever you want, I guess." Whitepaw sighed dejectedly.

"Oh, come on. Don't let them make you feel sad!" Barkkit squeaked. "Dad always says, 'Hold your chin up high, and whatever cats don't respect you are crowfood.'" Barkkit purred.

"Well, that's helpful." Whitepaw mewed sarcastically.

"Yeah, it is! It shows you can be more than what they think!" Barkkit smiled.

"They all think I'm a klutzy, ugly, no-good she-cat." Whitepaw sighed.

"Well, on the bright side, it can't get any worse than that." A voice joked behind her. Whitepaw turned around to see Duckflight, amber eyes glowing amusedly. Whitepaw couldn't help but purr at the sight of her friend.

"Yeah, I suppose not." She mused, rolling over onto her back. "Wanna play with us, Duckflight?"

"I would, but I've got a patrol to head out on." The dark ginger she-cat meowed, gesturing to a group of waiting cats with her tail. Whitepaw saw her father among the patrol group, and she smiled and waved her tail in greeting. Stonetail dipped his head to her in response.

"Well, I guess I'll see you later, then." Whitepaw mewed. Duckflight purred and nodded, dashing off to meet the patrol.

"Wait, have you seen Swanpaw?" Whitepaw called after her, remembering her sister. _I wonder what she'll think of me now…_ She thought sadly.

"I'm right here, you doof!" A lighthearted purr sounded from behind Whitepaw.

"Gah! Why's everyone sneaking up on me, today?" She giggled, swatting playfully at Swanpaw's nose. The other she-cat laughed, and tackled her sister in response.

"Cause you're so easy to sneak up on!" Swanpaw mewed, batting Whitepaw on the ear.

"Hey, do you wanna play with us, too?" Barkkit asked hopefully, looking up at Swanpaw.

"I would, but Rosedust and Waterfall are waiting for us so we can go train." Swanpaw meowed apologetically to the little tom. Barkkit pouted, but said,

"Okay. Will you play when you get back, though?"

"Sure." Whitepaw agreed.

"Promise?" Barkkit asked.

"Of course. I promise." Whitepaw grinned.

"Now come on, we're gonna be late!" Swanpaw mewed, dashing over to the camp entrance where both mentors waited patiently.

"Last one there's a kittypet!" Whitepaw shrieked with laughter, bolting after her sister. Never once looking back to her friend, to see the look on his face as she left him. Again.

"Your eye looks much better." Rosedust meowed to Swanpaw as the two apprentices reached them. "And Whitepaw, are you feeling better today?" The she-cat's blue eyes narrowed.

"Yes." Whitepaw mewed, looking Rosedust in the eye. There was tension building in the air between them. Yet, Whitepaw held the warrior's gaze.

"Good! Alrighty then, Whitepaw, today, we'll be learning hunting techniques." Waterfall purred cheerfully, breaking the thick mistrust between the two she-cats.

"And Swanpaw, we shall be working on offensive battle tactics." Rosedust meowed stiffly, turning and gesturing for her apprentice to follow. Swanpaw shot Whitepaw a sympathetic look, and padded quickly after her mentor. Whitepaw sighed, and followed Waterfall into the Shadowclan forest.

* * *

><p>"That's it, a little closer to the ground…." Waterfall mewed, pressing down gently on Whitepaw's back with a single forepaw. The fluffy white apprentice painstakingly lowered herself even further, feeling the aching creak of her joints.<p>

"Ow!" She grunted.

"Very good! You're getting the hang of it!" Waterfall purred, ignoring her apprentice's protest.

"How am I supposed to move like this?" Whitepaw complained, shifting her weight painfully.

"Keep the power and spring in your hind legs. That's the secret. Tuck them in a little more…" The gray warrior mewed, inspecting the hunting crouch. Whitepaw hobbled awkwardly as she adjusted her legs. Once they were securely tucked beneath her, though, the crouch felt far more natural.

"Ah…" She sighed with relief. Waterfall smiled.

"Now, can you scent anything? Hear anything? See anything? Reach out with all your senses, Whitepaw. Become one with the forest, and you'll notice even the smallest twitch of a leaf." She whispered. Whitepaw nodded and focused on her surroundings. The she-cat strained her ears, hoping for even the slightest sound. _Ah! There it is!_ She thought as a rustle in the grass reached her. Whitepaw zeroed in on it. _It's coming from…there! It's over there!_ The apprentice searched the small patch of flowers in front of the bramble bush. Sure enough, a small mouse scuttled carefully within the forest of purple and yellow petals. Its large brown ear twitched. Beady black eyes glanced frantically about. Whitepaw felt her mentor's muzzle beside her ear.

"Remember, a mouse can feel you before anything. Soft paws, young one." Waterfall breathed. Whitepaw flicked her ear in response, and crept forward carefully. Making sure to place each large white paw down as carefully as possible. One step…two steps…three steps…Once Whitepaw reached six whole pawsteps, she smiled to herself. _It hasn't even glanced at me! I've got this. This mouse is mine._ She thought. Then, one her seventh step, Whitepaw got arrogant. Not watching where her paw landed, it brushed a twig, which slid through the grass, and nudged a pebble. The small, gray stone rolled towards the mouse for three seconds. The fuzzy brown creature sat upright suddenly, and dashed for the bramble bush. _No! You're mine!_ Whitepaw thought, lunging after the mouse desperately. She was a whisker-length away when it disappeared from sight, and Whitepaw kept going. She soared through the air, landing in the prickly shrub at full force. Shrieking with pain, the pale apprentice frantically pulled herself free from the bush, slashing blindly at the tangled fronds holding her. Finally, she freed herself. Lying on the ground, she whimpered, rubbing her nose full of prickles. Once she felt that she had removed every last thorn, Whitepaw looked up at her mentor. The gray she-cat was standing a little ways away, a paw raised to her mouth to keep from laughing. Whitepaw scowled.

"It's not funny!" She pouted, rolling over onto her stomach.

"Well, to be quite honest with you," Waterfall began, stifling giggles, only to become serious after a sharp golden glare from Whitepaw, "no. It-it wasn't funny at all." She finished, plastering a firm look onto her face. Whitepaw matched it, only to recall her failure of a pounce. She snickered despite herself.

"I guess…well, it was pretty funny, wasn't it?" She smiled sheepishly, getting to her paws. Waterfall nodded briskly, suppressing a wide grin that was threatening to burst onto her face.

"Yes, it was. But, now, let's focus. You don't want to return empty-pawed now do you?" Whitepaw's mentor asked, all joking aside.

"No, I don't. You're right." Whitepaw meowed earnestly, shaking out her grassy fur.

"Let's get to work, then!" Waterfall purred. "Again." Whitepaw quickly dropped into her crouch. _I will master this. I'll be the best huntress ever! The best warrior ever!_

* * *

><p>Whitepaw entered camp ahead of Waterfall, jaws filled with prey. Her chest swelled with pride as she deposited her day's hunt on the top of the freshkill pile. Two mice and a sparrow lay in front of her, <em>a hardy few catches for a first try.<em> She thought smugly. Swanpaw dashed up to Whitepaw, eyes lit with surprise.

"Wow! You caught all those?" She asked, eyeing the prey.

"Yep!" Whitepaw chirped. "All by myself!"

"On your first try?" Swanpaw mewed, awestruck.

"Well, not on my first try…" Whitepaw grinned awkwardly, but she quickly regained her confidence. "But I still caught them!"

"Yeah! That's amazing! I can't wait to show you the moves Rosedust taught me today!" Swanpaw squealed excitedly. Whitepaw nodded enthusiastically.

"Yeah, yeah!" She agreed. But, something still nagged at the back of her mind. _What am I forgetting?_ She looked quickly around camp, hoping that something would remind her. Finally, movement outside the nursery caught her eye. Barkkit had tumbled out, and was sitting there, watching her and Swanpaw sadly. _That's what it was!_ Whitepaw thought. She turned back to Swanpaw, who was crouching, tail waving, waiting for Whitepaw to practice with her.

"Um, Swanpaw?" Whitepaw mewed.

"Yeah? You ready?" Her sister chirped.

"No, I need to play with Barkkit, actually." Whitepaw murmured. Swanpaw cocked her head curiously. "I promised." Whitepaw explained. Swanpaw nodded, but her bright gaze dimmed slightly, a shadow of disappointment falling over her face.

"Oh, well, that's okay." Swanpaw meowed.

"Yep. See you later!" Whitepaw said, padding quickly over towards Barkkit.

"Yeah. See you later." Swanpaw whispered. But her sister had already dashed away. The silver and white apprentice watched as her bigger sister played mossball with the small, brown tom.

"Haha! Can you grab this one?" Whitepaw called cheerfully, batting the mossball high into the air. Barkkit lept, but in vain.

"No fair!" He pouted. "You're too big!"

"Then you just have to grow more!" Whitepaw teased, catching the fluffy ball in her teeth as it fell while poking Barkkit with a paw.

"Oof!" He grunted, toppling over. "See? Too big!" He squeaked, getting to his paws and launching himself at Whitepaw. She laughed, and rolled over on top of the tom, pinning him.

"Do you surrender?" She asked, grinning.

"Never!" He shouted, struggling out from beneath her paws and leaping onto her back. Whitepaw darted around the nursery, playfully trying to shake off her attacker. Then, she stopped suddenly as she heard Swanpaw's musical laugh. Turning, Whitepaw saw her sister. The small silver and white she-cat was sitting with the older apprentices. From the looks of it, Timberpaw had said something funny. The rest of the cats were in hysterics, while Swanpaw just sat in mirth, leaning into the brown tabby. Whitepaw watched as Timberpaw edged in closer to her sister. He looked up and spotted Whitepaw staring. Triumphantly, he sneered at her. Whitepaw felt her pelt burn like fire.

_Why is she over there with them, after all they've done to us? All they've done to me? _She thought angrily. _They're badger-breath bullies! Why is she over there? Why isn't she spending time with me? _Whitepaw seethed. Then she looked over at Barkkit, who still clung to her back expectantly. _Maybe I'm being selfish. She can have other friends too, right? Graypaw and Mothpaw aren't terrible…no, but the other three are! And she's laughing with them!_ Whitepaw thought. Then, her golden eyes shone with realization. _If they're laughing…they're probably laughing at me!_

**Oh, no! Has Swanpaw gone to the dark side? **

**Love those comments, critique, and over all feedback, y'all!**

**QOTD: If you were Barkkit, and your best friend was an apprentice, your littermates (who weren't actually your littermates) worshipped the jerkface apprentices, and most cats in the Clan hated you, how would you deal?**

**'til next time!**

**-Bright**


	15. Don't You Love Me?

**Here you go, y'all. **

_Laughing! _Whitepaw thought. _Laughing…with Timberpaw! And Rainpaw! No!_ Whitepaw felt as if she were falling. Her head spun and she had to sit, the dizziness causing her to stumble slightly on the way down. _I-I must be dreaming…but, if I am, then this is a nightmare._ The thick furred apprentice could no longer feel her friend clinging to her back and play-biting her scuff. She couldn't hear the purrs and friendly, welcoming meows of her clanmates sharing tongues. She could focus on one thing and one thing only. _Betrayal._ She hissed in her head.

"Hey, Whitepaw? Can I play too?" Cherrykit squeaked, prodding the apprentice with a small tortie paw. Whitepaw nodded absentmindedly, still focused on one thing and one thing only.

"Barkkit?" She asked.

"Yeah? What?" The small tom looked up from wrestling with his friend's boundless supply of fur.

"Do you see this?" She hissed, gesturing towards her sister with a twitch of her ear. The brown pelted kit glanced over to the group of apprentices. Swanpaw was sitting shoulder to shoulder with Timberpaw, leaning into him whenever he spoke.

"Yes." He meowed slowly.

"Can you believe her? The audacity!" Whitepaw growled, tail flicking.

"Come on, Whitepaw. Can't we just play?" Barkkit whined, nipping her ear gently. "I've been waiting all day!"

"Yeah, please Whitepaw?" Cherrykit mewed, head-butting Whitepaw's flank gently.

"But-" The white apprentice argued, only to be cut off by Barkkit.

"It's just Swanpaw. You should know by now she doesn't mean it. She's a terrible flirt! Have you seen her around Icegaze?" Barkkit mewed. Whitepaw looked at her friend curiously. He had spoken with a tone of, _Oh, I don't know,_ She thought, _mild infatuation? Does he like Swanpaw?_

"Hmm." She mused out loud. "Do have a thing for Swanpaw, Barkkit? You're much too young." She teased. Cherrykit giggled, and Whitepaw swore she could see Barkkit blush beneath his pelt.

"Of course not! Why would you think that?" He asked defensively.

"Mooning over cats usually gives it away." Cherrykit grinned. Barkkit stuck his nose high into the air and responded in a regal, haughty tone:

"I don't stoop to liking she-cats who converse with the enemy." He sniffed. Whitepaw's attention was then brought back to the issue at paw. _Why? Why, Swanpaw? You're my sister!_

"I'll talk to the offender later." Whitepaw sighed to her little friend. Barkkit nodded with agreement. Cherrykit bounced up and down excitedly.

"Can we play hunt the frog?" She squealed.

"Yeah!" Barkkit purred. As Whitepaw turned back to their game, the small tom cast one last longing glance towards his bestie's sister before turning away, too.

* * *

><p>Whitepaw lay in her nest, pretending to be asleep. Through one slitted golden eye, she watched as Swanpaw bade farewell to her new friends as their went on to the gathering.<p>

"See you later!" The sleek white apprentice purred, her swirling silver markings glowing in the moonlight.

"Yeah. See you." Timberpaw rumbled. Whitepaw flinched. _Betrayer._ She wanted to scream.

"Have a fun night with Patheticpaw." Rainpaw snickered. Whitepaw watched as her sister didn't even blink.

"Okay!" Swanpaw mewed.

"You're a cool cat, Swanpaw." Bouncepaw smirked, bumping her gently with his shoulder. Whitepaw watched as Swanpaw returned the flirty nudge wholeheartedly. She growled softly.

"You're not too bad yourself!" The she-cat purred, green eyes shining.

"Aw, flattered." Bouncepaw chuckled.

"Are you three going to stand there like bumps on a log or follow the patrol? We're leaving!" The firm voice of Blueshine sounded from outside the den as she called her kits away.

"Coming mother!" Rainpaw replied sweetly. Then turning back to Swanpaw, she rolled her eyes. "What a _pain_."

"I don't want you to miss it because of me!" Swanpaw sighed, "Have fun."

"Bye!" Rainpaw mewed, bounding off after her brothers. Whitepaw watched as the three cats-three _tormentors_-padded excitedly through the bramble entrance. Blueshine walked behind them, herding them through. Graypaw and Mothpaw followed close behind. _Good_. Whitepaw thought. _We're the only ones left._ She closed her eye quickly as Swanpaw turned back into the den. She heard her sister's soft pawsteps as she made her way carefully over to her emerald nest beside Whitepaw. Once Whitepaw heard the telltale thump of Swanpaw's sitting down, she sprang up.

"AHHH!" Swanpaw shrieked, scrambling back.

"What did you think you were _doing_?!" Whitepaw hissed angrily.

"What was _I _doing? What are _you _doing?" Swanpaw retorted, composing herself. " You practically scared me out of my pelt!"

"You know perfectly well what you're doing. You're fraternizing with the enemy!" Whitepaw meowed, eyes narrowed.

"What?" Swanpaw looked up from licking her ruffled fur smooth. "What are you talking about?"

"Giggling?" Whitepaw pressed. "Joking, laughing with them? You know they hate me!"

"Rainpaw? Timberpaw and Bouncepaw?" Swanpaw mewed, shocked. Then, she growled. "Well, not everything's about _you_ Whitepaw."

"Are-are you _serious_?" Whitepaw gasped. "You think this is about _me_? It's about them! They're so mean! Swanpaw, they-"

"They're mean to _you_." Swanpaw cut in, voice sharp. "And that's all you know. They're nice to _me_, Whitepaw. I can have friends to!"

"Of course you can have friends too! Just not them!" Whitepaw spat the word venomously.

"What, you think I want to hang out with you and-and that _kit_?" Swanpaw snapped. "We're apprentices. What are you doing, playing hunt the frog with four moon old kits?" Whitepaw looked at her sister, hurt lighting in her golden gaze.

"He's my friend!" Whitepaw meowed defensively.

"Yeah, and whenever you two are together, I'm a third wheel." Swanpaw snarled. "So, you have your friends, I have mine."

"But I-" Whitepaw began.

"I don't _care_ what you think! Not everything is about _you_ Whitepaw! You may have papa, and Duckflight, and your little kitten pals, but you can't take everything! Leave me alone!" Swanpaw screeched, whipping around, tail colliding with Whitepaw's muzzle. The hurt ignited and turned into a blazing flame of rage.

"You! Why you little rat!" Whitepaw roared. "You think everything's about me? I'm bullied by your 'friends' everyday! The Clan hates me! You're a selfish brat!"

"Says miss high and mighty!" Swanpaw sneered, back still turned. "Little princess do-good, who wouldn't harm a fly! Cutey-victim!" She mocked sarcastically. "I'm sick of it!" The silver and white apprentice stalked off into the corner of the den where Timberpaw, Rainpaw, and Bouncepaw made their nests and shaped herself a new one. Keeping her back to Whitepaw, Swanpaw flopped into her new nest and didn't speak. Whitepaw sunk dejectedly into her own nest, alone.

_What have I done? What have I done? _She wailed in her head. _Swanpaw, I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry…_ She looked up at her sister.

"Swanpaw? I-" She mewed quietly.

"Shut. UP!" Swanpaw hissed. Whitepaw lowered her head and put her paws to her face. _So much for sisters._

For the rest of the night, Whitepaw rolled over restlessly. All she could hear were Swanpaw's small snores from the back corner. Then, when the others returned from the gathering, the already warm den grew hot and stuffy. Whitepaw watched as the shadowy shapes of her enemies curled up around Swanpaw, and she heard her sister's sleepy voice greet them. _Timberpaw's rumbling purr could be head from Shadowclan camp to Thunderclan!_ Whitepaw thought. The brown tabby's delight at finding Swanpaw beside his nest was unmatched. _It used to be me sleeping beside her._ Whitepaw remembered. She recalled her sister's stinging words with a heavy heart.

"_Well, not everything's about you Whitepaw." _

"_They're mean to you. And that's all you know. They're nice to me, Whitepaw. I can have friends to!" _

"_What, you think I want to hang out with you and-and that kit? We're apprentices. What are you doing, playing hunt the frog with four moon old kits?"_

"_Whenever you two are together, I'm a third wheel. So, you have your friends, I have mine."_

"_I don't care what you think! Not everything is about you Whitepaw! You may have papa, and Duckflight, and your little kitten pals, but you can't take everything! Leave me alone!"_

_Swanpaw, you hurt me. Your tongue is sharper than any claws. I love you, sister. Don't you love me?_

**Any perspectives on Whitepaw or Swanpaw change? And words of advice to our warring siblings?**

**QOTD: What do you think of Swanpaw's new side?**

**Love y'all! Reviews are much appreciated, even a simple "good job" or "cool" make me smile :)**

**-Bright**


	16. Waking to Reality

**Good evening or morning or afternoon! It's 9:02 my time, and here I am posting a chapter and writing two others! Fabulous! Last week of school, my friends. I am flying cloud nine! The bf is tickling me as I write this message to you...not sure if I'll survive! But, R&R&E (Enjoy!)**

_One moon._ Whitepaw thought miserably. _One entire moon._ She padded slowly, her paw steps heavy, beside Waterfall. Stonetail was on her other side, occasionally flashing a concerned golden glance at his youngest daughter. _One moon since she last spoke to me._ Whitepaw wanted to scream. _One moon since I lost my sister! What happened to forever, Swanpaw?_ She felt the fluffy tip of her plumy white tail drag in the dirt behind her. Ahead, she saw said silver and white she-cat tip her head back, forest echoing with her silvery laughter. Timberpaw, Rainpaw, and Bouncepaw walk beside her. Close by, newly-named Grayshadow and Mothwhisker walk side by side with Duckflight, chattering happily. Blueshine and Paledove travel together in silence, Addershriek beside his mate, talking pleasantly with Hollowstar, who led the group. _It's my first ever gathering. I should be happy!_ Whitepaw thought. _But I should be sharing this. With the one cat who matters most. Swanpaw, please!_ She stared at her sister's back, hoping that, somehow, her sister would notice and turn around, smiling. _No. It's over. You have no sister now. She can go join your nonexistent mother, and your invisible friends._ Whitepaw thought bitterly. Waterfall's voice jerked her out of her little world and back into the present.

"We're almost to the island, Whitepaw. Excited?" She asked, gaze warm and concerned. Knowing.

"I guess so." The fluffy white she-cat sighed.

"Come on, sweet. Try to perk up. It's only a little spat." Stonetail murmured.

"You weren't there, daddy. You didn't hear her…" Whitepaw whispered. Stonetail shook his head.

"No matter what, you'll always be sisters. You can't change blood." He meowed firmly. "No, come along. Let's go have some fun, hm?" The large gray tom leaped ahead, coming to a halt beside Hollowstar. Whitepaw dashed to keep up. When she passed Swanpaw, she resisted the urge to look at her. _I don't need her!_ Whitepaw tried to convince herself. _I'm fine without Swanpaw. I'm my own cat!_ Even as she drilled into her own mind that she was one, whole, healthy apprentice, Whitepaw felt as if half of her had sunk into the lake. And she couldn't swim. At the flick of Hollowstar's tortie tail, Shadowclan surged into the clearing beneath the Great Oak. Whitepaw felt her pelt prickle and nose tickle as scents new and unfamiliar scents greeted her. _So many cats!_ She thought with a small gasp. Pelts over different colors, eyes of so many different shades, all mingling in a sea of…cat. She felt bodies, large and small, thin and fat, strong and weak pressing against her. _I…can't breathe! _She thought, desperately trying to fight through the crowd. _Too many…cats! Stonetail! Papa! Help!_

"Whitepaw!" Stonetail meowed loudly over the din.

"Papa? I'm coming!" Whitepaw replied, struggling to catch up with her father. After practically climbing over a calico Riverclan warrior, she looked up at him and shook the awe off. "That gathering is huge1 I never knew there were so many cats!" She mewed to him.

"Yes. Now, look, over there. See that? A group of apprentices, all from different Clans. Why don't you head on over?" He smiled. "Meet some new cats."

"I guess so…" Whitepaw mumbled, all previous excitement gone.

"Have fun tonight, sweet." Stonetail purred, licking her gently on the ear before heading over to a group of senior Windclan warriors. Whitepaw padded slowly over to the group of apprentices, tail twitching nervously. Finally, she was only a tail length away. _Well, here goes nothing._ She thought, steeling herself, and walked over to the group.

"Hi." She mewed nervously. The apprentices' heads rose, gazes trained curiously on Whitepaw. Her pelt burned under the scrutiny.

"Hello!" A small yellow she-cat grinned pleasantly after a few moments. "My name's Sunpaw! But everycat calls me Sunshine. You know, 'cause of my fur." Whitepaw laughs a little, and sits down cautiously next to the apprentice. She smelled like Thunderclan.

"Well, come on! Don't be shy. We don't bite, ya know!" A pretty brown tabby she-cat giggled. "Well, I can't truly say for all of us…." She glanced playfully at the large cream tom beside her. He rolled his eyes.

"Honestly, that was one time!" He groaned. Whitepaw's smile opened a little wider.

"So, what's your name?" Sunpaw-no-Sunshine mewed.

"Whitepaw." Whitepaw said in a small voice.

"Talks like a mouse now, doesn't she?" A handsome silver tabby smirked.

"Don't be such a meanie, Fogpaw. She's new. And from Shadowclan." The brown tabby frowned, shoving the tom with a paw. "I'm sorry. My brother's _such_ a pain." She mewed apologetically to Whitepaw.

"No problem. I'm used to it." She shrugged.

"What do you mean?" the cream colored tom asked, leaning in curiously. Then, almost embarrassed, he shifted back and licked his chest fur awkwardly. "I mean, yeah, my name's Applepaw. Sorry. But what do you mean?"

"Nice to meet you!" Whitepaw smiled, "And, I mean that the other apprentices in my own Clan aren't very nice either." The other apprentices made small sounds of sympathy.

"That's too bad. They'll grow out of it though, I think. Or, at least, that's what mother hopes for with Fogpaw." The brown tabby grinned.

"Hey! I'm not _that_ terrible." The tom complained.

"Nah, I think Robinpaw's right." Applepaw laughed. Fogpaw shouldered his brother.

"And I'm the bully?" He growled playfully.

"Hey! No hitting!" Applepaw pouted, hiding a smile. Whitepaw and Robinpaw laughed, Sunshine following suit. In the midst of hysteria (Applepaw had proceeded to tackle Fogpaw.) Whitepaw spotted Swanpaw looking at them from a few tail lengths away. The she-cat's green gaze bore into them, and Whitepaw returned it evenly. Finally, Swanpaw's gaze darkened. Whitepaw noticed. _I don't need you anymore_, she wanted to hiss. Instead, Whitepaw grinned as something clicked. She slowly lifted her tail, and, in a second, flashed her butt at her sister. Swanpaw's mouth dropped and her pelt bushed in shock. Anger lit her gaze. _It may be rude, but it's affective._ Whitepaw thought smugly. Then, with a flick of her ears, she turned back to her new friends.

* * *

><p>Whitepaw settled into her nest contentedly. The others were too tired to torment her tonight. She replayed all the fun she had with those Thunderclan apprentices in her mind, the way she had joked so easily with them, all of them. Fogpaw had softened up by the end of the gathering, and Applepaw, Robinpaw, and Sunshine were just fun! As she curled up tighter into a fluffy white ball, Whitepaw smiled to herself. <em>I had fun tonight! On my own! I made new friends, and they're actually my age. Ha! Take that, Swanpaw. I can be just as cool as you. Wait and see.<em> Whitepaw felt her eyelids begin to droop. As she sunk into sleep, she thought one hopeful thing. _Maybe…just maybe, if I can do that at a gathering, I'll do it here. Then Paledove will love. Swanpaw will like me again. And Timberpaw could be friends with me? I could be happy._

* * *

><p>"Hey, Whitepaw!" Swanpaw called. Whitepaw groggily lifted her head and opened her eyes, blinking at the sunlight streaming into the den.<p>

"Swanpaw?" Whitepaw mewed, confused.

"Duh! Who'd you think I was, Hollowstar?" Her sister joked, green eyes shining.

"But-" Whitepaw said, mind reeling.

"Come on, slow-slug! We have battle training today!" Swanpaw interrupted. "Last one there's crowfood!" The pretty silver and white she-cat laughed, dashing off. Whitepaw immediately jumped up and raced after Swanpaw. With a burst of speed, she caught up to her sister, and they ran through the underbrush side by side. For the first time, Whitepaw moved freely. She didn't feel her pelt snagging on branches, or her too-big paws tripping over themselves. She and Swanpaw looked at each other, smiling. _This is how it's supposed to be. I'm glad she's forgiven me! It's like a miracle! I have my sister back!_ Finally, the two reached the training area. Whitepaw frowned when she found that Timberpaw, Rainpaw, and Bouncepaw were already there. Waiting. _If only it could've just been the two of us…_She skidded to a halt in front of Waterfall, panting. The gray warrior smiled.

"You're late, but that was impressive speed. You've got the makings of a great warrior, Whitepaw." Waterfall purred. The large white apprentice blinked in surprise when Rosedust nodded.

"What Waterfall says is true. You have much potential, young one." The former queen agreed.

"Enough chitchat." Dawnstrike meowed, deep voice cutting through the morning air swiftly. "We're here to train. Whitepaw, Timberpaw. You two are going to be the first ones in the arena. Practice the duck and swipe." The reddish pelted tom meowed. _Why do I have to be stuck with him first?_ Whitepaw thought. But, she still moved to her place in the middle of the clearing. Soil squished beneath her paws. _Hmm. Must've rained last night._ Timberpaw crouched low in his own spot, and to Whitepaw's surprise, _Everything's been surprising me today!_, she saw no malevolent gleam in his eyes. _Unusual…_ Instead, there was only the competitive spark that the emerald orbs usually carried.

"Begin!" Rosedust called. Immediately, Timberpaw lept. Whitepaw knew he would. _He always makes the first move!_ The she-cat ducked beneath him, and, as soon as he landed with his back towards her, swiped at his haunches. The tom's eyes narrowed, and he swiveled quickly, lunging at Whitepaw with the ferocity of a lion. Raising a brown tabby paw to cuff her shoulder, Whitepaw dodged his strike and slid under his belly, pushing up powerfully with her hind paws. Timberpaw let out an 'Oof!' as the wind was knocked out of him and the kick sent him soaring over her head, landing with a thud on the silty ground behind her. Whitepaw stood up and shook the dirt out of her fur. _Wow! How did I know how to do that? Whatever! I beat Timberpaw!_ She puffed out her chest, and grinned triumphantly. Swanpaw, and _What?!_ Rainpaw and Bouncepaw dashed over, not to their brother, but to _her_.

"Wow! Whitepaw, that was amazing!" Bouncepaw meowed, amber eyes wide with awe.

"Impressive!" Rainpaw purred.

"You're going to have to teach me that!" Swanpaw grinned.

"Whitepaw!" Timberpaw growled, stalking over. _I guess some things never change…_ Then, he broke out into a genuine smile. "Those moves were great!" He laughed. Whitepaw stiffened when Timberpaw pressed him pelt against hers. Her looked at her, confused.

"What are you doing, Whitepaw?" He asked, hurt. He leaned in, and touched his nose to hers, emerald eyes soft and sweet. "I thought we were…" He trailed off. Whitepaw felt her heart race. _This-this evil, terrible, bully is touching me! But…he's so sweet. So gentle. So…beautiful._

"Nothing." She murmured, pressing her face to his. "I'm doing nothing but loving you." Identical 'aww!'s rang out from the others, and Timberpaw licked her cheek. _This feels so strange…but so good._ Whitepaw thought.

"Okay! Back to work!" Dawnstrike called to the apprentices. Rainpaw and Bouncepaw turned and hurried back to the mentors. Swanpaw smiled at her sister one last time, and dashed to where Rosedust stood waiting for her. Whitepaw and Timberpaw lingered a little longer.

"You're so…beautiful." Timberpaw breathed. Whitepaw's heart glowed. He had never called her anything but ugly, and stupid, before. "Beautiful, and talented, and smart," Timberpaw continued, "You're perfect, Whitepaw." He finished.

"Timberpaw!" Waterfall yowled. " Whitepaw! Hurry up!" The two giggled and raced over to the gray she-cat.

"Whitepaw, you did very well. We're giving you the day off so you can watch to other practices and offer critique. Timberpaw, you're up against Bouncepaw." Waterfall meowed. The brown tabby nodded, and returned to the practice ring. Whitepaw's head was spinning _Beautiful…talented…smart…perfect…day off…what is this? _

"W-Waterfall? "She stammered. "I'm not feeling very well. Can I head back to camp?" He mentor gazed at her, concern etched on her striking features.

"You do look a little shaky. Go to Shyfawn, and check in. Maybe lie down. Help yourself to the freshkill pile. I want you in top shape tomorrow! We've been assigned to the dawn patrol, and evening patrol." Waterfall meowed. Whitepaw stifled a groan.

"Okay." She mewed. Then, she padded off into the forest. Once out of sight and earshot of the others, Whitepaw broke into a sprint. Yet again, she felt as if she moved faster, and more freely than before. _What's happened to me?_ She wanted to wail. Finally, she reached camp. She staggered through the entrance, and instantly cats began swarming her.

"Whitepaw, back to soon?" Grayshadow asked.

"Are you alright?" Mothwhisker wondered.

"You look sick." Quietdream fretted.

"And tired." Icegaze added.

"Maybe you should lie down, hmm?" Duckflight mewed.

"You poor dear! What happened?" Blueshine tutted, laying a tail on Whitepaw's shoulder. _I thought you hated me?_ Then, an all-too familiar meow sounded from the crowd.

"Excuse me, yes, pardon me. Oops! Sorry. Coming through!" Finally, a pale silver face popped through the crowd, crystal blue eyes wide and worried, pretty features marred by concern.

"Paledove?" Whitepaw squeaked. She had never before seen that look on her other's face. Or, at least, not for her.

"Whitepaw!" The she-cat meowed. Then, Paledove rushed Whitepaw. Soon, the white 'paw was covered in licks. "Oh, sweet, why do you look so ill?" Paledove mewed, voice full of…_motherly love? I've never felt it before. It feels…different. Good._ She thought. She pressed her face into Paledove's shoulder.

"Mama." She whispered. She had never before felt such raw emotion. Paledove lifted her gaze to Whitepaw's.

"Come along, sweet. Let's get you to Shyfawn." Whitepaw was guided by her mother to the medicine cat den, where both she-cats fussed over her.

"I'm fine, really. I just need to lie down." Whitepaw insisted softly. Eventually, Paledove gave in. With one final nuzzle, the silver queen said,

"All right, darling. I'll be right outside if you need me." She smiled, face soft and kind. Whitepaw basked in it.

"Okay." She mewed. Paledove left, and Shyfawn went back to her herb store, where she and Goldenpaw kept busy organizing and reorganizing. Whitepaw was alone at last. Carefully, she crept over to the shallow pool beneath the single hole in the roof of the medicine cat's den. Leaning over to lap up some of the water, she gasped at her reflection.

No longer was she Whitepaw, the thick-furred, stocky apprentice whose paws were too big for her body and whose pelt stuck out at awkward angles no matter how often she groomed it. She no longer had that one left ear that was slightly more angled to the side than the right one. She was now Whitepaw, whose golden eyes shone like miniature suns. Whose fur was sleek and white and gleamed like the full moon. Her ears were even, her face round. She was a slender, with long legs and perfect paws. Even her whiskers and stubby eyelashes were longer. Her whiskers curved down in a graceful arch and her eyes lashes were like snowy wings about her golden orbs when she batted them. _I-I'm beautiful. _She thought. _I looks like…mother. And Swanpaw. _Suddenly, a rustling of crunchy, dry leaves alerted her to another cat's presence. She whipped around, and saw…Stonetail.

"Papa!" She purred. _Maybe he can tell me why this life's upside down_.

"Hello, my lovely sweet one. How are you?" He asked, padding over and touching her gently on the ear. She breathed in his scent. Fresh and forest-y, as if he had just come back from patrol.

"I'm okay." She mewed. Then, Stonetail nodded.

"Good. Now, I have to go back out and organize patrols." He meowed, tail swishing. He left. _Thanks a lot._ Whitepaw pouted. Then, Shyfawn reentered then den.

"Wake up." She meowed.

"What? I'm already awake." Whitepaw pointed out.

"Wake up." Shyfawn repeated. "Wake up. Wake up."

"What if I don't want to!" Whitepaw growled. "What if I'm happy?"

"Wake up! Wake up wake up wake up!" Shyfawn insisted.

"Don't you want me to be happy?! Don't you?!" Whitepaw screamed.

"Wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up!" Shyfawn insisted, turquoise eyes wide and glowing.

"No! I don't want to go home! NO!" Whitepaw sobbed. "Let me stay! Please! Please!" She wailed. She closed her eyes, and covered her perfect ears with her delicate white paws. She screamed.

* * *

><p>Whitepaw opened her eyes. <em>Someone's screaming their ears off!<em> She thought immediately. Then, she realized. _It's me._ Whitepaw clamped her mouth shut, and felt tears well up in her eyes. A grunt startled her.

"Shut _up_, will you?" Timberpaw's low voice rumbled.

"Yeah, quit yer' whining, Plainpaw." Rainpaw hissed.

"Can't you let me get some sleep?" Bouncepaw mumbled, rolling over. Swanpaw just mewed softly in her sleep and rolled closer to Timberpaw. Whitepaw could still practically feel his tongue on her cheek. _What a sick joke. _Whitepaw thought with a small hiss.

"What are you now, an adder?" Timberpaw growled. "Shut up!" _I guess some things will never change…_ The apprentice licked her ruffled chest fur. _Thick, fluffy, and tangled. Again._ She thought bitterly. _Why can't I stay asleep for the rest of my life?_ She gazed out into camp. _Huh. The sun's just rising. Didn't Waterfall say we have dawn patrol? Oh. Right. That was _dream _Waterfall, _dream _dawn patrol, _dream_ life._ Dream _happiness._ Whitepaw thought. She got up, stretching. _There's no going back to dream-land today. Guess I'll take a walk or something._ The fluffy white she-cat padded out of the den and into the soft, gray light of the early morning. Something caught the edge of her sight. It was…a large, gray shape. Darker than the dawn light. _Stonetail_? She wondered. _What's he doing up?_ She started to make her way over to him, and stopped almost as soon as she started. A lithe golden and white shape had exited the medicine cat den, to meet Stonetail in the shadows of the camp wall. Even from there, she could here the purrs. Whitepaw's heart felt like stone. Slowly, she took one step forward. Then another. And another. Soon, she was practically beside the two.

"Father?" She whispered.

**I lived! Winded, but alive.**

**QOTD: Did the dream confuse you? Reveal anything about Whitepaw? Thoughts? Opinions? Predictions?**

**I love y'all so much!**

**-Bright**


	17. Sacrifice

**Oh, didn't I leave y'all with a simply fabulous cliffie? I know, you have such a love hate relationship with them. Oh well! **

"Father?" She whispered. It rang out like a swallow's call in the misty morning air. Two sets of eyes landed on her. Golden suns gleamed beside deep blue ones, and both shone with fear.

"Whitepaw?" Goldenpaw squeaked nervously. Despite still having an apprentice name, the she-cat was older even than Duckflight, and far more beautiful. Stonetail's tail lay across her shoulders, steadying her, as she quivered beside his shoulder.

"Whitepaw." He mewed softly. "Please, sweet, don't say a word. I can explain."

"I know what I see." She meowed sharply, eyes narrowed. She hissed as he attempted to step towards her. Whitepaw stood, locked in place, "And what I see I don't like at all!"

"Whitepaw, please, lower your voice!" Stonetail pleaded, "I can explain!"

"Explain what? This is against the warrior code! You even have a mate! And kits! What will Paledove say? Or Swanpaw? And me! Do you care about any of us anymore?" Whitepaw wanted to wail. But instead, she lowered her voice to a cold whisper.

"Whitepaw." Stonetail meowed, "Come with me. Please." He then turned to Goldenpaw, "Get back to sleep." He said, giving her cheek a single lick, "I'll see you later."

"Not if I have anything to say about this!" Whitepaw growled. Stonetail shot her a look.

"Come." He meowed. Whitepaw frowned, but followed her father out of camp.

* * *

><p>Soon, she found herself beneath the cherry tree, the only one in the center of Shadowclan territory. Its sweet blossoms perfumed the air, and the pale pink and white petals drifted about the two, fragrance wafting on the gentle breeze.<p>

"Let me guess." Whitepaw snarled, "This is where you take _Goldenpaw_." Stonetail held her vicious gaze evenly. The two sat in fluffy mounds of moss, softer than a rabbit's ear, and both pelts bristled with hostility.

"No." He mewed softly, "This was your mother's favorite place to come together." Whitepaw flinched. "We'd lie here together for hours, watching the star and the flowers. One is sharp, and bright, and the other is soft and warm. So different, yet both so beautiful." Stonetail trailed off, staring into the sky, "Paledove is like the stars, Whitepaw. She is beautiful, and witty, and loving, but so hard. On herself, and others around her." He returned his gaze to his daughter, who sat, motionless and hurt, in the warm night air, "She isn't good for you." Stonetail sighed, "Not you, not Swanpaw. And not for herself. I can't let her hurt you, Whitepaw. And what hurts you hurts me. For the sake of all of us…we've grown apart."

"You mean _I _caused you to split up. To not love each other anymore." Whitepaw spat bitterly.

"Whitepaw!" Stonetail hissed, voice hard and angry, "Never think that! Not for one instant! I love you, Whitepaw, and Paledove does too. She just…doesn't know it yet. It will take time, love. And she isn't willing to spend that time. It's better if we walk our separate paths." He meowed, "Now, see, Goldenpaw is the flowers of the cherry tree. Sweet as the freshest bloom, young and vibrant, full of love and beauty. She knows how to love. How to love _all_ of us." He sat patiently, staring intently at Whitepaw. She replied with a glare.

"She's also a medicine cat! Or are you so infatuated that you 'forgot'!" She snapped.

"I didn't forget. This is why you must be quiet, Whitepaw. Can't you see we love each other? That _I _deserve some comfort, and love, as much as you do?" Stonetail meowed, a frown forming on his face, "I thought you could see past the obvious and respect this."

"Respect the fact that my own father is rejecting his mate and breaking the warrior code?" Whitepaw yowled, "Never! I don't support this!"

"Whitepaw, can't you understand?" Stonetail growled, "This is love! This is not the sick fantasy that Paledove led you to believe was love! This is real! Have you forgotten what she-"

"What she? No! You don't get it, Stonetail. You're no better than her!" Whitepaw shrieked. Her father sat back, stunned. His mouth dropped open.

"You can't be serious!" He meowed.

"Yes! You're rejecting your mate like she pushed me away. You're choosing a favorite in Goldenpaw. You're forgetting about the feelings of your family. Stonetail, this is _wrong_." Whitepaw growled.

"Whitepaw…this is true love. You sacrifice everything for true love." Stonetail mewed, "You've never felt this love before, Whitepaw. It's you who doesn't understand." Whitepaw flashed back to her dream. Timberpaw's warm breath, his sweet voice and soft tongue. How she felt as if she would run to the ends of the earth for him, leap into a gorge for him, just so she could love him forever.

"No. I do." She whispered.

"What?" Stonetail meowed.

"I…I respect your decision, papa." Whitepaw mewed.

"You do?" Stonetail asked.

"Yes. I know you love me, and you love Swanpaw. And Paledove…you love her deep down. You just don't remember. But, you deserve to be happy, Papa. I love you." She padded towards him and pressed her face into his pelt. He purred, and the deep thrum could be felt in Whitepaw's bones.

"Just promise me, Whitepaw. Promise that you won't tell your sister. Or your mother." Stonetail murmured.

"You truly think either of them would listen to me?" Whitepaw asked into her father's fur. He sighed. "But papa…you should tell Swanpaw. She deserves to know."

"I know, sweet. And I will. All in good time, dear one…" Stonetail whispered, "All in good time."

* * *

><p>"Whitepaw! What has gotten into you? Why are you so distracted lately?" Waterfall's voice cut through Whitepaw's troubled thoughts. <em>Seven sunrises since Papa told me.<em>

"What?" She mewed distractedly.

"Honestly, have you even been listening to what I've been trying to teach you?" Waterfall sighed exasperatedly.

"Yes! Of course!" Whitepaw mewed defensively. Swanpaw and her friends snickered.

"Then what did I say?" Waterfall asked.

"You said…umm…make sure your tail is low enough, but not so much it touches the ground?" Whitepaw guessed nervously.

"No. I said: Make your crouch steadier." Waterfall rolled her eyes. "Where is your head at, Whitepaw?"

"Does she even have a brain inside that head, now, that's the real question." Timberpaw sneered. Rainpaw and Bouncepaw laughed, but Dawnstrike cuffed him over the ear.

"You are the snarkiest tom I've ever had to meet!" Dawnstrike growled. Timberpaw scowled at his mentor.

"Relax, gramps. I was _joking_." He said.

"Sure. Get back to work!" Dawnstrike groaned, pushing his apprentice away with a paw.

"I've got a better idea." Waterfall meowed. "Instead of chasing off all possible prey with such a large group, we'll split into pairs." The apprentices glanced at each other excitedly.

"I'll pair them off." Rosedust's stern mew greeted them. The five cats groaned.

"Timberpaw and Rainpaw." Rosedust meowed. The siblings grinned and stepped off to the side.

"Swanpaw and Whitepaw." The two she-cats glared at each other and stepped to the side as well, as far away from the other as possible.

"But-Rosedust-I don't have a partner." Bouncepaw mewed. The pinkish-gray she-cat smiled.

"Well that's too bad. I guess you'll have to hunt with me." She meowed. Bouncepaw's shoulders drooped. Timberpaw, Rainpaw, and Swanpaw laughed, loud and obnoxious. Bouncepaw glared at them, and flicked the tip of his black tail at them before following Rosedust into the forest. Whitepaw turned to Swanpaw once Bouncepaw had disappeared.

"I'll lead." She meowed haughtily. Swanpaw let out a low hiss, but followed Whitepaw anyway.

"So, where do you want to hunt? Loser-land?" Swanpaw asked coldly.

"I was thinking the marsh, unless you don't want to get your _precious_ paws wet." Whitepaw shot back. The two march on in tense silence. Whitepaw felt brambles and blackberry bushes snag on her already matted pelt as she padded through the forest. _Certainly not dream life anymore._ She thought. She heard Swanpaw snicker as she tripped over her forepaws. Again. _Why am I so clumsy? Can't I just be built like a normal cat?_

"Hey, slug, can't you hurry up?" Swanpaw complained.

"Only if you _shut_ up." Whitepaw snapped. Again, they continue on in silence. Bullfrogs croaked to break up the tension between the former best friends, and merely added to it. Skittering bugs clambered over paws and through pelts, causing each she-cat to let out a hiss of frustration every now and then.

"Stupid beetles." Whitepaw muttered. Swanpaw opened her mouth to agree, but, realizing what she was about to do, stopped herself right before the first word escaped her lips. Finally, the two reached the marshes. Almost immediately, Whitepaw spotted a large, fuzzy squirrel scuttling about the base of a swampy pine. She raised her tail slightly to signal Swanpaw. The other she-cat twitched her whiskers slightly to show that she saw. Whitepaw quickly dropped into a crouch, and beckoned Swanpaw to cut around to the other side. Her sister firmly disagreed.

"No! I want to chase it." She protested.

"Shh!" Whitepaw hissed frantically, but the squirrel had already escaped up the tree. "Now see what you did?" She meowed angrily to Swanpaw.

"What _I_ did? You didn't let me chase it when I'm faster!" The silver and white cat growled.

"Since when?" Whitepaw sneered.

"Since forever and a moon." Swanpaw snapped.

"Shut up! You're such a stuck-up brat! Worse than Timberpaw!" Whitepaw snarled.

"Don't you dare insult my friends!" Swanpaw yelled.

"I will all I want!" Whitepaw hissed.

"Then what about that pipsqueak you always hang out with?" Swanpaw asked mockingly. "The rogue that has no real friends! He's a joke! Not a Clan cat!"

"Barkkit will be an apprentice next moon!" Whitepaw growled. "He's no pipsqueak! And he's better than you ever were! Than you'll ever _be_!"

"I hate you!" Swanpaw shrieked.

"I hate you more!" Whitepaw yowled. Finally, the she-cats lept at each other, Whitepaw bowling Swanpaw over due to sheer size. The two rolled in the mud, hissing and spitting and clawing. Whitepaw shrieked with pain as Swanpaw tore her ear. Swanpaw screeched as Whitepaw scored her claws down her flank. Heaving herself to her paws, Swanpaw panted and glared at her sister.

"You're a monster! Leave me alone!" She screamed, taking off, mud caked pelt disappearing into the thick, leafy bushes. Whitepaw instantly felt her heart sink. _What have I done?_

"Swanpaw! Swanpaw, come back!" She wailed, racing after her. Weaving thorough the dense forest, Whitepaw searched the territory frantically for her sister. "Swanpaw!"

"Go away!" The pitiful call sounded from through the trees. Whitepaw's heart sped up, breathing labored, as she bounded desperately towards the voice. Finally, she reached her sister. The skinny she-cat sat hunched beneath low hanging branches dripping with cherry blossoms, fur mud-coated and bloodstained. Salty tears coursed down her cheeks.

"Swanpaw! I'm so sorry." Whitepaw whispered, stepping closer to her.

"No!" Came the raspy, tortured meow, "Leave me alone!"

"Please! I want to help you!" Whitepaw whimpered.

"No. You've done enough. Look at me! You're a monster. An ugly disgrace. Mother was right." Swanpaw spat through the sobs. Whitepaw's eyes filled with tears.

"You can't say that!" She breathed, shaking.

"Yes! Yes I can! You're not my sister! I have no sister!" Swanpaw hissed, turning away. Whitepaw cautiously padded to her side.

"Yes. You do. I'm your sister. I love you. You know…this was mother and father's favorite place to come." Whitepaw whispered, placing a tail tip gently on Swanpaw's paw. The apprentice recoiled immediately and spat in Whitepaw's face.

"Liar! Filth! Don't touch me! Never come near me again!" Swanpaw shrieked, swiping Whitepaw's muzzle and darting off, again, into the shadowy depths of the Shadowclan marsh. Whitepaw touched her stinging nose gingerly. He squeezed her eyes closed, shutting out the pain in her heart and her pelt. _She hates me._ A single droplet rolled down the bridge of her nose, hung at the tip for a moment, and fell to earth. Making it's way down, the silvery tear hit glossy cherry blossoms, sliding off with the grace of a stone on ice, and landed on the spongy moss ground. It sank in, the small water mark fading almost instantly. Whitepaw had watched its journey.

_If only the scars on my heart disappeared like that…_She thought. _But some things never heal. Oh, Swanpaw. I miss you._

**Will our once-joined-at-the-hip sisters ever reconcile? I hope not! Drama is drama! **

**QOTD: How do y'all feel about Goldenpaw and Stonetail? Does she deserve to be dragged into all this? Don't worry, I'll add some more action soon. Swanpaw has a right to know about her father's love interests...but how she finds out is up to me! MWAHAHA! Oh, that was a nasty thought. Love it1 Suggestions y'all?**

**I am Brighteyes, this is Promise, and I'lll see y'all next time!**


	18. Alliances: Updated!

Per request, the alliances have been updated!

Alliances:

_**Shadowclan **_

_Leader:_ Hollowstar- dark tortoiseshell tom, green eyes

_Deputy:_ Stonetail- gray tom with a white splash on his chest, golden eyes

_Medicinecat-_ Shyfawn- orange and black tortie she-cat with blue eyes and one white paw

Apprentice_- _Goldenpaw

_Warriors:_

Rosedust- pinkish-gray she-cat with light blue eyes

Sharpcloud- large golden tom with dark copper eyes

Smokefang- dark silver tom, deep blue eyes

Apprentice- Bouncepaw

Kestrelwind- dappled cinnamon she-cat, amber eyes

Aprentice- Rainpaw

Dawnstrike- red tabby tom with a long tail and amber eyes

Apprentice- Timberpaw

Blueshine- silver-blue she-cat with light green eyes

Addershriek- dark brown tom with hazel eyes

Apprentice- Duckpaw

Waterfall- pale gray she-cat with dark gray paws, green eyes

Darkclaw- tortoiseshell and white tom with dark, red/amber eyes

Icegaze- white tom with silver eyes

Quietdream- gray and cream tortie with pale green eyes

Duckflight- dark ginger she-cat with shining blue eyes

Grayshadow- thick furred gray and black tom with hazel eyes

Mothwhisker- dusty brown she-cat, frail and slender, with light green eyes

Paledove- light silver she-cat, glowing blue eyes

_Apprentices:_

Rainpaw- silver-blue she-cat with mint green eyes

Timberpaw- brown tabby tom with deep green eyes

Bouncepaw- sleek black tom with amber eyes

Whitepaw- large, thick furred, white she-cat with a perpetually tangled pelt, golden eyes

Swanpaw- Gorgeous sleek, lithe white she-cat with swirling silver markings and light green eyes

Goldenpaw- Elegant golden and white she-cat with large blue eyes

_Queens:_

Featherfall- dappled brown she-cat with bright copper eyes, mother of Hollowstar's kits (Kits: Cherrykit-dark tortoiseshell she-cat, blue eyes; Sparrowkit-dark tortie tom with a bright white tail tip and green eyes; Blizzardkit-black tom with white legs, underbelly and flecks on his head, green eyes; Honeykit-pale gold and white she-cat, bright copper eyes and Doekit-dappled brown she-cat with wide copper eyes.)

Barkkit- Brown tom with darker brown legs, tail, and muzzle. Green eyes. Son of Darkclaw and an unknown she-cat.

_Elders:_

Frecklestep- dark gray tom flecked with white

Jumpfire- Black tom with a dark orange blaze on his forehead, dull copper eyes

Lostwind- fawn colored tabby she-cat, blind in one eye

_**Thunderclan**_

_Leader: _Dewstar- large gray tom with amber eyes

_Deputy: _Nightblaze- Pure black tom with white paws and blue eyes

_Apprentices:_

Sunpaw- known as Sunshine, pleasant yellow furred she-cat

Applepaw- Large, cream colored tom

Fogpaw- Moody, handsome silver tom

Robinpaw- pretty brown tabby she-cat

_Medicinecat:_ Lilyshine- dark tabby she-cat with white patches, green eyes

_**Windclan:**_

_Leader: _Wildstar- fawn colored she-cat with pale gold eyes

_Deputy: _Barkscar- white and dark tabby tom with one green eye and one amber eye

_Medicinecat: _Daypetal- white she-cat with one golden paw and pale blue eyes

_**Riverclan:**_

_Leader: _Lakestar- silver and white tom, blue eyes

_Deputy: _Shimmerpool-dark silver tabby she-cat, amber eyes

_Warriors: _

Troutfur-large brown tom

Hazelnose-skinny brown and white she-cat, green eyes

_Apprentices: _

Flintpaw-brindle-pelted tom with shining blue eyes

_Medicinecat: _Lionsmane-dark golden tom with thick fur and hazel eyes


	19. Love Never Dies

**It's been a while, but I'm back, and so are our favorite feuding sisters! Did you enjoy our latest twist?**

Whitepaw couldn't sleep. She had tried counting mice, singing herself lullabies that Featherfall used to croon when Whitepaw was in the nursery, and even telling herself stories. Nothing worked. And yet, she was exhausted. She ached from her nose to the tip of her tail from training, and her eyelids drooped as if weighed down by stones. Yet, they never fully closed, and her body was uncomfortable. Currently, she was twisted like a willow branch in a storm, trying to keep any single part of herself from touching another. Whitepaw let out a small groan. Even nature was against her. The night was warm, humid, and restless. From the gaps in the roof of the den, Whitepaw could spot glittering stars. Their light seemed sluggish reaching her, though, and they seemed to fade in and out of her vision whenever a fresh gust of humid air seeped through. Even now, without that, the she-cat felt beads of sweat gathering on her skin. No, not even _beads _of sweat. The liquid was even too lazy to form proper droplets, instead flowing throughout her pelt the instant it appeared, like rivulets of warm, slick oil. It wasn't only Whitepaw; the others were moving in their sleep as well. Bouncepaw kept shuffling his paws, and hitting every other cat. Timberpaw would snap at him, and Rainpaw would lash out at even the tiniest noise. Whitepaw's muzzle was sporting some new scratches tonight. The heat caused short tempers, and sour attitudes. Whitepaw had first hand experience during training.

_Stupid Timberpaw. I can't believe I liked you, even if it was just a dream!_ She frowned, rolling over, splaying out over her nest. She could practically taste the sweat pooling beneath her, the moss was so saturated it could hold no more. At the slightest movement, it would squish beneath her, and thick, smelly sweat would ooze from it, dousing her pelt. _Yuck._ Whitepaw heaved herself out of her nest, and sluggishly made her way out of the den. It was difficult for the apprentice to even place one paw properly in front of the other. She stumbled over nothing, though the air felt like sodden, heavy bricks. The air outside in camp was not much better. Even the mayflies seemed to be buzzing in slow motion about the freshkill pile, and Whitepaw saw cats stretched out across the ground, tongues lolling, breathing difficult. The humidity was sapping everything out of Shadowclan. Whitepaw fumbled her way through camp, passing by Icegaze, who was sprawled out beside Quietdream. The thick-furred siblings groaned in the heat, too exhausted to even move out of their sickeningly warm spots. Finally, Whitepaw reached the exit, breathing heavily, the thick air moving like oil around her. She trudged through the forest.

_The stream_. She thought. _The stream. Water. Cool. _She thought,passing by the pines and padding over the needles, slick with condensate, slipping with every other step she took. Willow branches curled in the heat, with beads of water hanging like crystals from their tips. Pebbles didn't even roll when nudged; they sat still as the hanging droplets in the humid night air. The paths didn't seem as twisted and frantic in their ways. Whitepaw barely noticed, though. Her mind was foggy, with one word penetrating it. _Stream. Stream. Stream. Stream. Stream._ Eventually, she reached it. It was small, and silver, and trickling sluggishly, as if it wasn't very motivated either. Whitepaw lunged for it desperately, wishing for nothing more but to press her face in the rippling waters. She tripped, though, and fell head over paws into the stream.

The water was frigid, seeing as the stream traveled down to the territories from the mountains. The silver liquid gushed over her head, submerging Whitepaw in its depths. She gasped as it seeped through her thick fur to chill her skin. Her head was beneath the surface, and everything seemed blurred and unreal. Trees turned to soft green splotches above, while the harsh light of the moon and stars bent and twisted with the ripples, flowing like quick silver. _It feels so good_. She thought with a whimper of happiness. Whitepaw felt her lungs shrink within her chest uncomfortably, she was losing oxygen. Paddling frantically, she pushed away the water that surged around her. Finally, her head broke the surface. The warm air no longer felt so disgusting on her face, and she could smell the spicy forest scents, instead of the sour stench of sweat. Having cleansed herself thoroughly, Whitepaw heaved herself up onto the bank. Laying down on the silt-like soil for a moment, she panted heavily. The air around her was no longer thick and terrible, instead, it was merely warm. Whitepaw lifted herself to her paws and turned again to the stream, smacking her dry jaws thirstily. She lapped the cool liquid and felt it slide down her burning, swollen throat. Almost immediately, the lack of energy brought on from the heat was gone. Whitepaw smiled to herself. _Maybe now I'll be able to sleep…_She mused, backing away from the river and shaking out her pelt to the best of her abilities. _Aw, but my moss is still soaked with sweat. Maybe I should go get some new stuff…Ah!_ She remembered, _There's good, plush moss under the cherry tree. I'll go, grab some of that, and replace my nest. Easy._ The apprentice grinned smugly. _You're so smart, self._ Whitepaw dashed through the woods, filled with energy, all earlier fatigue gone, and disappeared as fast as a twoleg after dark.

The sky was the deepest black, sparkling with silvery specks, and the pink-white petals of the cherry tree shone against it. Whitepaw breathed in their familiar, sweet, scent and smiled. It was so beautiful. She glanced at the moss lining the ground by the tree, but decided not to collect just yet. Instead, she just sat beneath the tree, letting the petals float around her like fluttering pale butterflies. Soon, though, Whitepaw noticed a disturbance in the peaceful, almost Zen-like garden. Something was…glowing? No. It couldn't be. The brightness that radiated from it was more captivating than the petals and the moon together. Whitepaw crept up behind it. The figure shone like a Starclan sent angel, she expected it to sprout dove's wings and take flight. As she crept closer, Whitepaw gasped.

Swanpaw was sitting in the grove. Perched on the very moss that Whitepaw had been looking for, the petals drifted about her. Their beauty paled in her radiance, and as much as it pained Whitepaw to admit it, her sister was gorgeous. The branches stretched out to reach Swanpaw, and yet they couldn't touch her. The she-cat's head was tilted up, staring at the stars. Her light green eyes glittered with the reflections and, for once, Swanpaw looked at peace. Whitepaw almost wished that she could walk up and talk to her sister, but she knew it was impossible. They had changed so much. Despite this, Whitepaw stalked even closer. She crouched low in the dusting of petals coating the ground, hoping and wishing for her white pelt to blend. Then came the laugh.

Whitepaw nearly lept out of her pelt. A melodious laugh rang out in the grove, along with a deeper one, one that sounded like stones in a rippling river beneath booming thunder, if it was put to a voice. One that Whitepaw recognized. _No, please no. Not here! Not now! Not with Swanpaw under the tree!_ She watched as Swanpaw pricked her ears and bristled, glancing around nervously. Whitepaw pressed even closer to the ground. _Please, Papa. Goldenpaw. Go away! Before she sees you! Before disaster!_ She wanted to wail. But the voices merely came closer. Whitepaw's golden eyes strained to find the cats, and she stretched her ears forward to their furthest extent.

"Oh, it's beautiful!" Whitepaw heard Goldenpaw gush. Her voice was nearly unrecognizable, as she had grown even more mature. Her voice had lost its kit-like sweetness and in turn had become smoother, richer. Whitepaw hated to say it, but Goldenpaw and her father fit nicely with each other. But still, they were coming closer!

"I thought you'd like it." Stonetail purred. Whitepaw flinched.

"Like it? I love it! It's the most magical place I've ever seen!" Goldenpaw gasped. Whitepaw watched as Swanpaw ducked low behind the trunk of the cherry tree, ears flattened. _Why, Starclan? Why do you have to show them to her now?_ Whitepaw wanted to wail. _Wait…maybe I could just chase her away! Or distract her! Something, anything, so she won't find out! Swanpaw, I don't want them to hurt you!_ Her golden eyes widen as the fluffy gray tip of her father's tail appeared above the edge of the small, emerald hill that the tree sits on. _Go away, Papa!_ She watched as Swanpaw stiffened. Then, Goldenpaw's face appeared. White and gold, with large blue eyes reflecting the stars. Whitepaw's fathers face joined Goldenpaw's, strong and proud, with golden eyes like the sun. Swanpaw screamed. The couple lept into the air, fur bristling. Swanpaw stepped out from behind the tree and glared at them, tears wobbling in her eyes.

"What are you doing? What are you _doing_?" She shrieked.

"Swanpaw! Swanpaw, darling, please! Wait!" Stonetail gasped, taking a step towards his daughter.

"No! No! Get away from me!" The silver and white cat wailed, "This was yours and mother's place! What are you doing here? What are you doing with her? I hate you!"

"Swanpaw-" Goldenpaw tried, but Whitepaw knew it was no use. It would only make things worse.

"YOU!" Swanpaw screamed, green eyes piercing Goldenpaw like shards of ice.

"Swanpaw, please, just-" Goldenpaw pleaded.

"NO! You get away from here! Get away from him! That is my father! MY FATHER! He has a mate! And kits! He has a life! AND YOU ARE NOT PART OF IT! EVER!" Swanpaw screeched, claws unsheathed and digging into the moss.

"I love him," Goldenpaw said quietly, "And he loves me. Swanpaw, sweetie, just try to understand, we-"

"Understand what? That you're code-breaking, family tearing, heart shattering pair of terrible cats? I hate you! Can't you see life is hard enough already? DO YOU HAVE NO HEART?" Swanpaw wailed, a wrenching cry that froze Whitepaw's blood in her veins. _Swanpaw!_

"Swanpaw! You do not speak to her that way, young lady! Apologize at once!" Stonetail growled, stepping in front of his mate. Swanpaw glowered at her father.

"You spineless lizard! You're no better than mother when she abandoned Whitepaw!" The pale she-cat nearly gasped at her name. Stonetail growled, yet Swanpaw continued, undaunted, "And you're no better than she was when she abandoned me to a pair of _kits_ instead of her own sister! This entire family is twisted! I HAVE NO FAMILY!" With this announcement, Swanpaw took off, dashing into the night. Forgetting all about the moss, Whitepaw sprinted after her. Stonetail, watched, jaw dangling, as both his daughters vanished into the blackness. Or, his one daughter now. But no matter what Swanpaw said, she could never change her blood.

"Swanpaw!" Whitepaw called desperately, "Swanpaw! Swanpaw!" She finally found her estranged sister crouching low beneath the fronds of lavender. After the run and the length of the night, Whitepaw was exhausted and sweaty once again. The air felt as heavy as stones weighing down her lungs and paws. Swanpaw sobbed, not even noticing Whitepaw outside her hiding place panting for breath.

"Swanpaw," Whitepaw wheezed. The silver and white she-cat looked up, green eyes puffy and swimming with tears.

"Whitepaw? What are you doing here?" She sniffed, "Leave me alone." She turned away from the fluffy white apprentice.

"I'm here to help." Whitepaw whispered, "Because I always want to help you, Swanpaw."

"How long have you known?" Swanpaw whimpered.

"How do you know I know?" Whitepaw asked, slightly miffed.

"I'm not stupid. I could see you crouching in those flower petals, watching me. You're not _that_ white, Whitepaw." Swanpaw managed a giggle amidst her tears. Whitepaw found that quite impressive.

"Well, no one can be as perfect as _you_ Swanpaw," Whitepaw teased lightly, "But I've known for a moon, at least. I didn't take it well, either, though."

"How are you okay with that? It's so wrong!" Swanpaw wailed. Whitepaw wriggled under the lavender with her sister, and pressed her cheek to Swanpaw's.

"It's not wrong, Swanpaw. Love is never wrong, and so it never dies. Right Swanpaw?" Whitepaw sighed, thinking back to her dream. Timberpaw's sincere feelings, the warmth of her heart after he touched her…and yet, cruel reality had returned, along with the hatred of the tom. But Whitepaw knew, in her heart, that if she had stayed there, asleep forever, their love would've lasted longer than when the sun finally set on their lives.

"I…I never thought about it that way. Whitepaw, do you think papa still loves us as much as Goldenpaw?" Swanpaw asked, pressing closer to Whitepaw for comfort.

"Yes. Yes, I think he does. He'll always love us, because love never dies. So he still loves Paledove, too, somewhere. I know it." Whitepaw murmured, happy her sister was talking to her again. Swanpaw sniffled and rubbed her runny nose with a single paw.

"Whitepaw?" She said, staring at the ground.

"Yes?" Whitepaw asked curiously.

"I'm sorry." Swanpaw mewed, "Sorry for everything. Sorry for being jealous. Sorry for being mean. Sorry for forgetting myself. Sorry for…for not remembering love. I missed you, little sister." Whitepaw felt as if her heart would explode in her chest. Swanpaw looked up from her fixed spot on the ground, and into Whitepaw's eyes. Gold met green, and she smiled. "Not that you're _really _my little sister. How much taller are you now, a head?" Swanpaw purred and Whitepaw giggled.

"Maybe. I don't know." She grinned. Swanpaw sighed and looked out into the dark forest.

"We should probably head to back to camp. Cats will be worried if we're missing." It was hidden in her voice, but Whitepaw noticed anyway. "Cats" surely meant Timberpaw. Swanpaw's gaze was full of longing. In an instant, Whitepaw felt the sharp pang of jealousy, but pushed it away.

"You really do like him, don't you?" She asked, already knowing the answer. Swanpaw turned and looked at Whitepaw again.

"Whitepaw…I think I might love him, even." She murmured. Whitepaw's heart sank. _In love with my tormentor…of course!_ "But, no matter what, Whitepaw. I won't let him hurt you."

"Thanks." Whitepaw whispered, "Sisters forever?"

"Forever." Swanpaw replied, "Never hurt each other again. Promise?"

"Promise." Whitepaw breathed, "Are you okay with Papa and Goldenpaw?"

"Yeah, I guess. Should we tell Paledove?" Swanpaw asked.

"Not yet. Soon, though. And I won't be the one to tell her." Whitepaw mewed, shaking her head vigorously.

"Love never dies, Whitepaw." Swanpaw reminded her gently.

"What if it was never born in the first place?" The fluffy apprentice huffed.

"Come on, let's head back to camp." Swanpaw meowed, standing up. Whitepaw suddenly remembered her original purpose.

"Wait! I've gotta get some new moss for my nest. It is _soaked _with sweat!" She said. Swanpaw made a face, teasingly.

"EW! Nasty!" She giggled.

"Then I'm gonna go get a drink." Whitepaw decided. "This air's hot as Dawnstrike's temper!" Both she-cats laughed and dashed off into the night.

* * *

><p>Whitepaw woke up. She was in her dry, fluffy nest, lying beside her sister. On the other side of Swanpaw were Timberpaw and his siblings. <em>This is how it should be<em>. She thought, listening to her sister's light snores beside her. _I'm glad I've got her back._ With a large yawn, Whitepaw heaved herself up out of her nest and prodded Swanpaw gently.

"Ungh?" The pretty silver and white she-cat grunted, tossing a paw over her eyes.

"Wake up." Whitepaw smiled, "It's time for dawn patrol."

"Why us?" Swanpaw groaned, but she removed her paw and opened her eyes. Whitepaw nudged Swanpaw up and the two stumbled out of the den. Thanks to the light rain that came down sometime in the middle of the night, the air had sufficiently cooled. The ground was slightly spongy, but the humidity had disappeared, along with the hostility between sisters. _Thank Starclan._ As the two swaggered into the center of camp, paws heavy with sleep, Waterfall and Rosedust intercepted them.

"Before we leave," Said the pinkish-gray she-cat, "Get something to eat. The freshkill pile's low, but I expect the apprentices to all go hunting later before stealth training." Rosedust finished, looking between the sisters, as if scanning for bad blood. Waterfall, too, glanced from she-cat to she-cat. Whitepaw and Swanpaw looked at each other, and burst out laughing. Both fell to the ground, rolling around and bumping into each other. Whenever one or the other would run out of steam, they would merely glance at the one still laughing and begin anew. Rosedust's eyes narrowed, but she soon cracked a smile. Waterfall beamed.

"We'll see you after your morning meal." The gray mentor purred, padding away. Rosedust followed. Whitepaw gasped for breath.

"Oh…my…Starclan! Why was I laughing?" She asked.

"I was laughing…because you were laughing!" Swanpaw panted, grinning. The two locked eyes and snorted again.

"I'm feeling up for a vole." Whitepaw mewed, sniffing the air. Swanpaw shook her head.

"Squirrel, all the way." She disagreed.

"Vole."

"Squirrel."

"Vole!"

"Squirrel!"

"Vole!"

"Squirrel!"

"VOLE!"

"SQUIRREL!"

They raced each other to the pile, and snatched up their preferred prey. Laughing, they argued through mouthfuls of fur while padding over to their favorite eating spot. The dead stump. Each she-cat settled down with their respective meal, mentioning in between bites how much better theirs was. _Finally, things are back to the way they're supposed to be._ Whitepaw thought contentedly. She looked up just in time to see her father pad into the medicine cat's den. _For now…_

**Aw, they're back together again! Next chapter, we'll be greeting some new apprentices...Stay tuned!**

**QOTD:** Will Swanpaw and Timberpaw work out? Does he share her feelings?****

**Don't forget to check out my other story- The Great Divide, my oneshots-especially The Faithless, and my popular spoof-Warrior's Couple's Counseling! See you later!**

**-Bright**


	20. Always Second Place

**Hello and welcome to our newest installation of Promise! I'm your host, Brighteyes! And now on to the show!**

_Great Starclan, I feel strange._ Whitepaw thought, stretching. Three moons. It had been three moons. _Three moons since I made up with Swanpaw. Three! Thank goodness Paledove hasn't figured it out yet...but still, it's only a matter of time._ Her parents had become even more distant, barely speaking or acknowledging each other at all. The only thing that seemed to stay the same was the warrior's den. Their nests were right beside each other, as always. That's about as close as they'd ever get in a day. Whitepaw had noticed that her father and Goldenpaw, wait, no, Goldenfrost now, were spending far more time away from everycat. They'd disappear for hours on end, and Whitepaw knew it wasn't good. Shyfawn couldn't handle all of the Clan's illnesses and injuries without her apprentice, and her father was deputy for Starclan's sake! They shouldn't be abandoning their duties for a few extra moments with each other. But that wasn't why Whitepaw felt strange. _Something feels…off about me today._ She mused, shaking out her pelt. Yes, she had grown, sure. But something felt not quite right.

She didn't feel as close to the ground, thanks to her short, stocky legs, as usual. She wasn't stumbling over her paws anymore either. Of course, her pelt was long and tangled still, and her left ear was tilted out slightly more than the right, but those didn't bother her as much. She had grown. Whitepaw felt proud to even think it, that her body was evening itself out. Yet, something else was bugging her as well.

As of two moons ago, there were now eleven apprentices squeezed into the den, not five. Barkpaw, Cherrypaw, Sparrowpaw, Doepaw, Honeypaw, and Blizzardpaw now snuggled up into the apprentice den, making it crowded and stuffy, with a multitude of snores emanating from any given direction. Four of the six trotted after Timberpaw and his siblings like dogs after twolegs, while Cherrypaw and Barkpaw hung around Whitepaw instead. It didn't bother her _that_ much; it meant she had more friends in the apprentice den, that's for sure. But because they hung around, she couldn't truly spend one on one time with Swanpaw anymore. And Cherrypaw and Barkpaw were a little annoying. Barkpaw constantly chatted with her about random things, like sunshine and gatherings and training and frog hunting techniques. Cherrypaw was more interested in whether Whitepaw knew Bouncepaw very well. The tortie she-cat mooned after him day and night, fawning over his looks and talent, and cursing her age. It was laughable, really, how much Cherrypaw tried to impress the black tom. Bouncepaw was the kindest of his siblings, one who would actually talk to Whitepaw like she was a real cat when Timberpaw and Rainpaw weren't around.

And that was another thing. Rainpaw, Timberpaw, and Bouncepaw were having their warrior ceremony this afternoon. It would be a pleasant kind of strange not having their snappish, jeering insults following Whitepaw around. Swanpaw was visibly upset. She and Timberpaw were clearly in love, and she hated the thought of not being able to be near him for another two entire moons when they got to take their final assessments. And that's _if_ they passed.

Whitepaw sighed, and shook her head to rid herself of these troubling thoughts. They weren't going to do much today, merely patrol the twoleg path that separated Shadowclan territory from Thunderclan. It would be a small patrol, too. Waterfall had said only Swanpaw, Barkpaw, and Honeypaw would be joining them. Waterfall would be the only mentor on the patrol. Timberpaw, Rainpaw, and Bouncepaw got to stay in camp all day today, and rest in preparation for their vigil, until this afternoon. They were, of course, allowed to participate in patrols and go hunting, but why waste a day of rest? Whitepaw couldn't wait for hers.

"Swanpaw. Barkpaw. Honeypaw, wake up. It's time to go." Whitepaw mewed quietly, as not to wake the others. Prodding each cat with a single paw, she waited impatiently for them to rise. Swanpaw got up first, purring in greeting to her sister before rubbing the sleep from her eyes. Barkpaw got up second, groggily swiping a paw over his ears to smooth the perpetual tufts at the tips. Honeypaw remained in her nest, snoring.

"Honeypaw, wake up." Swanpaw sighed, nudging the pale golden she-cat.

"Momma, just another moment, I promise." The she-cat grunted, a paw flopping over her face. Barkpaw made a face at Whitepaw.

"She's _always_ like this in the morning." He meowed, rolling his eyes. Swanpaw chuckled, and Barkpaw grinned to himself.

"Honeypaw, it's not even early. It's almost midday!" Whitepaw meowed, swatting the lazy apprentice with her tail, "Now hurry and get up, or that last finch on the pile's mine!" With this, Whitepaw started out of the den. Swanpaw and Barkpaw followed, each with a glance back to Honeypaw. Suddenly, Swanpaw came up with an idea.

"Honeypaw! Get up or I'll send Hollowstar in to wake you!" She called, dashing out of the den. Honeypaw's eyes snapped open and she lept up in fright.

"No! Not my father! Don't call him in!" She wailed, racing out of the apprentice den, "Swanpaw!"

The silver and white apprentice sat with her sister, both laughing at the young she-cat's frantic pleas. Barkpaw just shook his head and dug into the plump squirrel he had chosen for breakfast. Swanpaw and Whitepaw had chosen a nice, fresh rabbit to share. Honeypaw scowled at them, but with good humor, as she reached up and plucked the last finch from the pile. Finch was her favorite.

"I knew you wouldn't take it, Whitepaw!" She smirked, settling down next to Swanpaw.

"Oh yeah?" Whitepaw raised a single furry eyebrow, "Try me." The fluffy white she-cat bent forward and snatched up the finch, and, with a quick snap of her jaws, took an enormous, ravenous bite.

"Hey!" Honeypaw shrieked, lunging forward to take back her breakfast. Whitepaw let it drop with a light laugh. Even if she had wanted to keep the bird, Honeypaw was no match for her. The small golden she-cat was half Whitepaw's size. One of Whitepaw's gargantuan paws was the size of the other apprentice's head. Even Swanpaw's muzzle only came up to her sister's shoulder. The four apprentices finished their meals after a smattering of laughter and good-natured jokes. It always surprised Whitepaw how friendly others could be when Timberpaw didn't influence them. Finally, Waterfall came to fetch the apprentices.

"Good morning. You're lucky it's not an early patrol today, young'uns." The gray warrior smiled.

"Yeah. Honeypaw never would've made it." Barkpaw mewed through a final mouthful of squirrel. His adopted sister glared at him, but only teasingly.

"I could've gotten up! You guys didn't give me enough time!" The pale golden she-cat huffed.

"Yeah, like three more days. "Swanpaw snickered.

"That's only if you don't call Hollowstar in!" Whitepaw winked. Waterfall watched the exchange with amusement shining clear across her face.

"Why don't we go test how awake all of you are with a little race? First cat on the lowest branch of the apple tree wins." She suggested. The apprentices nodded enthusiastically. Everyone loved a competition. Waterfall took a few paces back and drew a line through the silt-like soil with a claw. "Line up here." She ordered, "Now, on one, we begin. I'll count down from five."

"Okay! I bet I'll win!" Honeypaw chirped.

"Yeah, right!" Swanpaw snorted, "I'm gonna win."

"I think Swanpaw's gonna win." Barkpaw agreed earnestly. Whitepaw rolled her eyes.

"You _always_ think Swanpaw's best at everything. I'll show you!" She teased.

"Five!" Waterfall began. The apprentices dropped low to the earth and tensed their muscles.

"Four!" They glanced sneakily at each other, and each pretended to put a paw over the line and gain the advantage. Waterfall shot them a look and they stopped.

"Three!" Honeypaw's whiskers twitched and her ears flattened. Whitepaw's golden eyes narrowed into a look of pure concentration. Swanpaw pressed lower to the ground.

"Two!" Waterfall crouched, streamlined, and experienced body in the perfect striding position. Barkpaw's tail flicked back and forth with anticipation.

"One!" Waterfall yowled. All five cats took off like rockets, tails streaming behind them. They jostled each other to be the one through the camp entrance first. Finally, Honeypaw, the smallest, squeezed past and lept out on the other side, gaining the lead. Swanpaw chased after her, Whitepaw close at her heels.

They whizz around the stack of stones that mark the entrance to the old badger den, and fly through the low hanging branches of the tall holly bush, red berries spattering their pelts when they fall. Whitepaw pulled ahead of her sister, newly long legs bringing her closer to victory.

Suddenly, out of the shady darkness of the forest, Barkpaw launched himself into the pack. The tom had sprinted to keep up with the she-cats, and, now, he had his chance to overthrow their lead. Waterfall was bringing up the rear. It was clear to all that she wasn't quite trying her hardest to beat them. The gray warrior loped languidly behind the four apprentices, making sure that, if there were any stragglers, she would make sure they didn't get left behind. Honeypaw, after her amazing breakthrough and follow up dash, was losing steam. Whitepaw pulled into the lead, yowling her victory to the sky as she tossed her head back, white fur blowing back. Her eyes were bright and glowed like miniature suns. Barkpaw didn't let her cockiness throw him. Urging his legs forward, the young tom came up side by side with his friend, nudging her shoulder with his.

Barkpaw had grown as well, Whitepaw noticed. His legs were long and slender, but well muscled. He was her height, though slightly more lithe, with his long brown body and thin, lengthy tail. But he was still the smile Barkpaw, with more confidence. He grinned at her, and accelerated. Whitepaw pushed herself to match his speed, lowering her head and stretching it before her. Then, the white apprentice felt a light touch on her shoulder, softer and more fleeting than a willow branch. Raising her gaze, she spotted Swanpaw streaking out ahead on her other side, tail flicking behind her.

_You can't beat me that easily!_ Whitepaw thought. She willed herself to be faster, stronger, but her legs wouldn't go anymore. Her left front paw hit a rock, and her leg gave out, sending her tumbling head over tail. What's worse: the apple tree was a tail length away. She watched from her dirt-laced scuff on the ground as her friends darted out to the tree. Swanpaw lept, clawing her way up the truck to the lowest branch, and crowed her victory out to the others. Barkpaw skidded to a stop, nearly smashing into the thick trunk of the tree. Honeypaw came up last, jogging slowly beside Waterfall.

"I win! Take that, suckers!" Swanpaw called from her perch. Waterfall laughed lightly and shook her head. Barkpaw collapsed on the ground, panting. Whitepaw scowled from her place in the dirt. _I could've won._ She thought sullenly, dragging herself out of the shallow dip she had made. _I could've gotten to that tree first if it wasn't for that stinkin' pebble. Why does Swanpaw have to win everything?_ Then, she caught herself. _No. She doesn't win everything. You're sisters, equals. It was one silly little race. You should've avoided the stone. Stupid. It's not like it matters._

Barkpaw padded up to the base of the tree, and watched Swanpaw once she'd slithered down. "Wow! You were really great." He mewed, smiling shyly. Swanpaw purred.

"Thanks. You're pretty fast yourself!" She nudged his shoulder, and added cheekily, "Of course, not as good as me."

"Well, you're amazing." Barkpaw said earnestly, "I knew you would win."

_What _is_ this?_ _My best friend is chumming up to my sister more than me? _"Barkpaw!" Whitepaw called, shaking the dirt from her pelt, "You should know that I would've won if it wasn't for that rock!"

"Oh, so it's the rock's fault you aren't as fast as me?" Swanpaw smirked. Whitepaw felt herself bristle.

"I am plenty faster than you! I just tripped! Next time, I'll-"

Waterfall hissed. "It's only a race! Calm down. We still have a patrol to do." The gray warrior padded past the apple tree. "The twoleg path border is only a little ways past here. Don't tire yourselves. Just walk."

Honeypaw padded up beside Waterfall, while Barkpaw and Swanpaw giggled and chatted their way over to the pair. Whitepaw sulked, and brought up the rear. _What makes her so special? Oh, yeah. Her beauty, her talent, her charisma, her brains. No cat gives a rabbit's tail about me. Not even my best friend! _The apprentice thought, growling quietly to herself. _Why can't I look like Swanpaw? Or Paledove? Then maybe someone will notice me. Then mother would love me. Rainpaw wouldn't torment me. Father wouldn't be with Goldenfrost. Barkpaw would pay attention to me. Timberpaw…Timberpaw might even love me. No. That's ridiculous. Why love me, when he has perfect Swanpaw?_ The she-cat trudged along behind her clanmates as they reached the twoleg path. It was made of dirt, and speckled with stones. Not very impressive, but it was wide. Whitepaw watched as Waterfall continued forward. Her mentor was a cat who got very mission-oriented. Honeypaw followed. They were talking about what battle training would entail tomorrow. Meanwhile, Barkpaw and Swanpaw were…shamelessly flirting. _Swanpaw, you already have Timberpaw! Why take my best friend as well?_ Whitepaw grouched. Each pair was caught up so much in their own conversations, it was make like a little gossip session more than a patrol. _And I'm all alone…_ Whitepaw turned her attention back to the path. It was well worn, with the prints of twolegs and their dogs inlaid in multiple directions. The stench of each of them often lingered. _Wait a moment…Is it just me, or is that dog smell stronger than usual? Hmm…_

"Waterfall?" Whitepaw called. The gray warrior turned her head, but kept walking.

"Yes?" She replied.

"Is it just me, or is that dog stench getting stronger?" Whitepaw wondered.

"You're right, Whitepaw," Waterfall said approvingly, "And that's because, as you will see, there's-"

"Swanpaw, look out!" Honeypaw cried, but it was too late. The dog smell had blossomed, and Whitepaw realized what it was. She lept back.

"EWWW!" Swanpaw shrieked.

"Gross!" Barkpaw yowled, dashing away. Swanpaw's face was pained, her whiskers quivering with disgust. Whitepaw slapped her tail over her face to cover her nose…and her mouth. She was afraid if she smiled any wider, she'd burst and begin laughing. Then she'd _inhale_ that awful stink, too. Honeypaw looked sympathetic, while Waterfall just looked amused.

"You've got to pay attention, Swanpaw." She meowed sternly, though she was still smiling.

"This is disgusting!" Swanpaw shrieked. And that it was. The small, silver and white she-cat had stepped in dog dung. It was a large, steaming pile, very fresh. It coated her legs all the way up to her soft belly fur. From the tips of the hairs on her stomach down, Swanpaw was covered in dog dung. And she smelled _horrendous._

"Oh, that's nasty," Whitepaw mewed, her voice muffled by her thick, white tail.

"Too true," Barkpaw agreed, stepping closer to Whitepaw, "Yikes!"

Waterfall glanced at the sky. "It's getting to be afternoon. We should head back. It's doubtful you'll have time to clean up, Swanpaw, unless you want to miss the ceremony." The apprentice scowled.

"Shell we?' Waterfall chuckled, gesturing for the younger cats to walk ahead.

"Why, thank you." Whitepaw replied, mimicking the proper-sounding tone. Honeypaw giggled. The two she-cats started on ahead, Waterfall padding behind them. Barkpaw stayed back.

"Aw, Swanpaw, are you okay?" He asked sympathetically.

"Do I look _okay_ to you?" the she-cat snapped, eyes hard.

"Um, no, I-I was just, well, I, uh, I could help you, you know, clean up? Maybe?" Barkpaw stammered, shying away from Swanpaw's icy glare.

"I can wash myself." She hissed, stomping away. Barkpaw hung his head, and padded dejectedly up to Whitepaw and Honeypaw.

"What's wrong?" Honeypaw asked, her sweet voice full of concern for her adopted brother.

"Nothing," Barkpaw sighed, not meeting her clear copper gaze.

"That's not true," Whitepaw mewed, "C'mon, tell us."

"I _said_ it's nothing! Leave me alone!" The brown tom growled.

"Barkpaw…"Honeypaw murmured.

"Stop," He hissed.

The three walked home in silence. The walk back took a long time, due to the exhaustion of the patrol-cats. Each paw step was heavy and landed with a slow thud. Whitepaw kept glancing at the sky, watching the sun sink lower and lower. Honeypaw stepped on a thorn, and that slowed the patrol even more. Finally, when they reached camp, it was almost dusk. They had missed the ceremony.

* * *

><p>"Swanpaw!" Timberpaw called, deep voice full of happiness.<p>

"Hi," Swanpaw purred, pressing her cheek to his. The dog dung was still gloopy and sticky on her pelt. The smell was going strong.

"Aw, what's that _stink_?" Timberpaw gagged.

"I, uh, um-" Swanpaw stuttered.

"What's on your _pelt_?" Timberpaw took a step back.

"I sort of stepped in…dog dung." Swanpaw muttered the last words. Timberpaw cracked a smile, but it wasn't a pity smile. It was more a 'Okay, _loser_ alert!' smile than anything. Even Swanpaw could tell. Her head dropped low and she couldn't meet his eyes.

"Well, I'll talk to you in the morning, when you're, uh, _cleaned up_." Timberpaw smirked. Swanpaw sniffed quietly as he walked away. Whitepaw felt a pang in her heart as she watched the exchange. She watched as Cherrypaw bounced up to them.

"Boy, are you _late_! You missed the whole ceremony!" The tortie squeaked, "Bouncepaw's got his name! It's _Bouncestrike_! Isn't that the most gorgeous thing _ever_?" the apprentice gushed, "And, of course, the other two got their names. Timbermask and Rainmist. _Boring_!" Cherrypaw rolled her eyes. Then, she scrunched up her nose. "Hey, what stinks?" She squealed. Swanpaw looked away, embarrassed. Whitepaw just shook her head. The new warriors were lining up to sit vigil. All other cats were returning to their dens for the night. Whitepaw decided she wasn't hungry. She left as Honeypaw padded over to the freshkill pile. As she settled into her nest for the night, Whitepaw heard conversation outside.

"I'm gonna go wash this off in the stream." She heard Swanpaw sigh.

"I'll help if you want," Barkpaw offered again.

"No. I can wash myself!" Swanpaw hissed, stomping away. Barkpaw sighed and entered the apprentice den. Whitepaw pretended to doze as he made his way over to his nest. Peeking out of one slitted eye, Whitepaw saw him pass his own nest. Instead, Barkpaw settled himself into Timbermask's old nest. Beside Swanpaw.

_Don't do it, Barkpaw._ Whitepaw thought sadly, _You'll only get hurt. She won't love you. Just remember…You'll always have a friend in me._

**Thoughts?**

**QOTD: What do you think of Barkpaw's new found feelings? And the dog crap?**

**FOR PLUSHIES: If any of you caught the Lion King 2 quote last chapter, write the quote in a review! Whoever does receives a one-of-a-kind Cherrypaw plushie! If you can tell me who said the quote, you receive an extra Bouncestrike plushie!**

**Til nest time!**

**-Bright**


	21. Sir

**I'm back again, and with another installation of Promise! I find all of your ships fabulous and I smile when I read every one of them. Then again...I also laugh because I know how this story will end1 Love y'all and enjoy!**

Whitepaw stretched in the sunlight. Golden rays bathed her pelt in warmth and turned the tangle of white fur into pale golden stands that caught the light and glimmered like gilded stars. When the sun caught her eyes, they combined their golden shine and glowed like the midday sun at its peak.

_Mmm…It sure is beautiful today,_ She thought with a smile, _Maybe I'll take a walk down to Halfbridge after training today. The fish are always so pretty down there, and the sunlight is just right slightly after midday. And the lake cools it to the perfect in between type temperature. Yes. That's my plan today._ _As long as it isn't like yesterday…_The events of the day before came blasting through her head.

The race, Barkpaw and Swanpaw, the dog dung, missing the ceremony, Timbermask and Swanpaw, Barkpaw again. She cringed. _Anything but yesterday today is good enough for me._ Her sister and Barkpaw had been sulking all morning. Barkpaw wouldn't speak to Whitepaw when she tried to talk to him, he pushed her aside and ignored her at every chance she had to try and understand him. _I know you love my sister, but she will hurt you, Barkpaw._ She had thought as she watched him pad away for training earlier. Timbermask, Rainwing, and Bouncestrike were exhausted from their vigil and were still sleeping in the warrior's den. When Swanpaw had approached Timbermask after his vigil he pushed past her without a word, and Swanpaw had been moaning to herself ever since. Yet, she had no look of anger. More like mourning, as if she had lost something precious and knew she would never get it back. Whitepaw tried hard to resist smirking and desperately wished she could feel sorry for her sister. The smallest shred of pity would probably feel better than the rearing head of the ugly green monster that resided in her chest at the moment. She recognized it, and hated it for being there, but, at the same time, Whitepaw couldn't help it.

_Now she knows how it feels to be missing something important. Then again, I feel it everyday. I never had it to begin with. She knows how it feels when your mother doesn't love you. When your sister steals your best friend. When you're sister's friends hate you. When the only mate you'll ever get is the one in your dreams. When your only friends are moons younger than you, and whose wills bend at the faintest brush of a breeze of someone else. Now Swanpaw knows how I feel. I'm glad she does, yet I wish she didn't. Does that make me weird? I hate you, jealousy, for making me feel this way. I hate you too, vengeance. Don't think I overlooked you, either, conscience. You're like Dark Forest warriors, all of you. And I hate it. Where are you, Starclan? Can't you help me, take away what I'm feeling and replace it with something better?_

She shook her head to clear it and headed over to Waterfall for training today. The elegant gray she-cat was lounging on her side in the sunlight, beside Icegaze. Whitepaw rolled her eyes. _Just say it already!_ She thought grouchily. _You act like mates all the time. Say it! Announce it to the Clan! Starclan knows this has been going on for moons already…_The two were laughing with each other, purring, and licking each other's faces. Whitepaw stifled her disgust. _Even if she's with Icegaze, my mentor isn't usually this gooey. What's into her this morning? She's normally coming to _me_!_ Whitepaw thought. She padded forward, wrinkling her nose slightly with every step.

"Errr…ummm…Waterfall?" She cough-meowed. The gray she-cat turned her head lazily, eyes half-closed, and smiled at the sight of Whitepaw.

"Oh, hello," She giggled. Whitepaw looked at her strangely.

"Well, aren't we going out?" The apprentice prodded impatiently. Icegaze gave Whitepaw a withering glance, along with a 'how could one cat be so stupid?' look. Whitepaw bristled indignantly. Waterfall seemed to wake up at the silent exchange and frowned at Icegaze, causing the tom to flinch back slightly.

"Oh, come off it! I haven't told her yet! And warm up! You're almost as cold as your eyes. She's a cat too, whether you like it or not. She deserves to be treated like one!" Waterfall hissed. Icegaze scowled defiantly and turned away, commencing grooming his whiskers.

"All I'm saying is that she should've never been born. Then you wouldn't have been straining yourself over these past few moons. Especially not for something that will never be a decent warrior, no matter how hard it _tries_." Icegaze stated casually. Waterfall hissed. Then, she looked back at Whitepaw, green eyes soft once again.

"Oh, Whitepaw. I meant to tell you earlier. I just found out yesterday, really, but you should've been one of the first to know. I'm sorry," The warrior said.

"I'm sorry what?" Whitepaw wondered.

"Well, I won't be your mentor anymore," Waterfall meowed slowly.

"Why not?" Whitepaw cried, distraught.

"Because…I'm moving to the nursery." Waterfall said sheepishly, not meeting her apprentice's eyes. Whitepaw paused to process this for a moment, and finally just shook her head.

"About time! I was wondering when you two would be official," she snorted. Waterfall looked at her, amused.

"You seem to take this well," she smiled, "I guess you'll want to know who your new mentor is then."

"Wait, I get a new one? But…I thought I would just train with Swanpaw and Rosedust," Whitepaw said confusedly.

"No, no. We don't want to disrupt their lessons. Hollowstar and I have decided your new mentor will be Addershriek. He's done well with Duckflight, and I'm sure he'll be tough on you. I always knew you'd be one up for a challenge," Waterfall purred.

_Don't I have enough challenges already?_ Whitepaw grumbled in her mind. But, out loud, she replied with, "Oh, yeah. Sure."

"Good," Waterfall nodded, "Now, go to your mentor. He's waiting." She gestured to the camp exit, where, sure enough, the large, intimidating dark tabby figure of Addershriek waited in the tunnel entrance. Hazel eyes glittered in the face so much like his son's. _Starclan, I can't escape Timbermask anywhere, can I?_ Whitepaw thought miserably.

"Alright," She sighed, "Bye. Have fun…doing something," she muttered, padding away from Waterfall and Icegaze. As soon as she'd left, Icegaze leaned in and whispered something to his mate. She shook him off and glared at him heatedly before getting up and stalking off. The white tom merely narrowed his silver eyes and watched Waterfall disappear into the nursery.

"Uh, um, hi?" Whitepaw mewed, approaching the hulking tom cautiously. He looked down at her. His scowl was deep, and one ivory fang protruded from the top part of his jaw and overlapped slightly onto his lower lip. Eyes narrow, he studied her. Addershriek had an aura…an aura of power and prestige. He was not a warrior to be trifled with. She felt small compared to Addershriek. And Whitepaw usually never felt small compared to anycat. All of the apprentices were shorter and skinnier, and even Waterfall and Whitepaw were the same size now. Whitepaw was even larger than her mother! Not that she had been comparing herself to Paledove. Definitely not. Or, at least, not today. Yet. She felt Addershriek's dark hazel gaze bore into her, and bravely the apprentice lifted her eyes to meet his. They locked stares for a moment, sizing each other up, and testing the others' strength.

"When you address me, you do not say 'hi'. You do not say 'what's up?'. You do not call me anything but sir. Every morning, you greet me with 'Good morning, sir.'

And that is all you will say. Understood?" Addershriek rumbled, interrupting the staring match.

Whitepaw frowned.

"But…uh, sir, how will I know what we're doing today if all I can say are three words?" She meowed, "Or what if the morning isn't particularly good? Or what if I really don't feel like saying 'sir'? It seems too formal. How 'bout, 'hi Addershriek,'? Seems a lot better." She decided thoughtfully. Silence met her statement. Finally, after a long while, it was interrupted by a hearty laugh. Whitepaw almost lept back in surprise. It wasn't from a cat behind her…the laugh had come from Addershriek.

"You're a tough one," He said, gazing at her appreciatively, "I'm glad I get to work with you. Whitepaw…we'll see if you are what they say you are. I'm curious." He meowed. If she could, Whitepaw would've melted into a puddle of fur and embarrassment right there. _Great Starclan…he means what Paledove says I am. He wants to know if I truly am a demon 'paw. But maybe…maybe I'll gain a friend today. Or, at least, a mutual respect relationship. Something like that. Maybe I'll show him who I really am…We'll wait and see._

"What're we going to do today, Addershriek?" Whitepaw asked brazenly. His hazel star became stern again.

"You are tough, but certainly not disciplined. You _will_ address me as 'sir' for as long as you are my apprentice. Each morning, you will greet me with 'Good morning, sir' because I expect every day of training to be productive. And productive is good. You may ask questions, but only after gaining the permission to speak. Am I clear?" He asked, voice firm. Whitepaw nodded.

"Yes, sir." She said in her best stiff and formal voice. Addershriek cracked a small smile.

"Very gutsy. I will see…" He murmured, deep voice feeling as if he was shaking the ground. It was all Whitepaw could do to stay on her paws, what with the ground quivering beneath her.

* * *

><p>"Good form…" Addershriek meowed slowly, inspecting her positioning. Whitepaw was demonstrating the correct way to deliver the front paw strike. Addershriek made her freeze at the moment directly before the blow, so he could decide whether her form should be corrected. Whitepaw growled to herself. Her foreleg was cramping, and her haunches were seizing up. She figured she had held the position for so long, her claws would be permanently unsheathed due to muscle cramps.<p>

"You should try to keep your hind paws slightly further apart. It's better for balance, force of the spring-back, and over all agility." Whitepaw made to adjust her paws and Addershriek hissed, "No! Not now! Take mental notes! That way, next time, you will do all the moves perfectly the first time through! Understood?" Whitepaw nodded.

"No again! Do not move, you'll disrupt your positioning! If I say 'Understood,' you say 'Yes sir,' Understood?" Addershriek groaned.

"Yes, sir," Whitepaw hissed through gritted teeth. The pain was heightening. She resisted the urge to flex her claws, stretch, or even just collapse. _Show no weakness…_

"Hmmm…" The dark tabby mused, "Next time, make sure to tuck your tail between your legs. It may limit your balance, but it protects you from sneak attacks from enemy warriors behind your back aimed at your tail.

"But, uh, sir, isn't that a Thunderclan tactic?" Whitepaw asked.

"Yes," He replied, "But any good move is still a move."

"Absolutely," Whitepaw agreed, accepting his reasoning. Addershriek smiled slightly.

"Alright, you can relax now." He meowed, sitting back on his haunches. Whitepaw fought her body as it desperately begged to collapse. Instead, she stretched each limb and stood at attention, facing her mentor, mouth set in a determined line.

"Again," She stated. Addershriek watched her as she raised herself once more to the battle position, adjusting herself so that her hind paws were further apart and her tail tucked. It was difficult at first, but soon she felt herself ease into the flow of the move. In the back of her mind, Whitepaw envisioned herself amidst a battle with Riverclan warriors.

They were emerging from the slimy, muddy, lily pad-coated water beside Halfbridge, eyes glimmering and glowing in the faint dusk light. She pictured herself leading the charge, not as Whitepaw, but as White_star_, fearless, commanding, and powerful. She pictured herself squaring up to Shimmerstar, and raising herself into the perfect frontpaw strike form, and bring her paw crashing down on the silver tabby.

In real life, without even realizing it, Whitepaw's snowy forepaw soared through the air like a hunting falcon, and dove to the ground, splintering the stick that sat in front of her. Whitepaw gasped and stumbled backwards, surprised by her strength. She whipped her around to look at Addershriek, who was staring with interest. His hazel eyes were intense and glittering in the shadow of his face, much like the Riverclan warriors Whitepaw had envisioned. But instead of malice, she saw curiosity. And…and maybe a little awe? No, it couldn't be. Not from such a proud warrior.

"Hunting crouch," Addershriek commanded, standing, "you have a lot of power stored behind your blows, Whitepaw, and I fear Waterfall didn't push you hard enough. Next session, we will unlock it, and harness it. It will take time, but I have faith. Today, since our time is running short, you will finish up with your hunting skills." The tom finished. Whitepaw stopped herself just in time from dipping her head, and, instead, opened her mouth and let out a quick: "Yes, sir," Addershriek grinned fleetingly in approval. Whitepaw dropped low to the ground, placing one paw further ahead than the other, and tucking the second beneath her chest. Her hind legs securely tucked beneath her, she lowered her thick tail to barely above the ground, the fluidity and familiarity of the move flowing through her memory-trained muscles. Her ears no longer flicked nervously as Addershriek paced around her, watching her. She eased her breathing to the tempo and depth she would typically use during the hunt, and let her body meld into the crouch as if it were a part of her. She shivered slightly as she felt Addershriek's pelt brush hers when he came closer. He bent down, and felt warm, soft breath on her ear. It wasn't the disgusting, sour type of breath. It was gentle. Teasing, almost. _No. He's your mentor. What in Starclan's name do you think you're doing? He's _old_!_

"Good," Addershriek whispered. Whitepaw felt his scent envelope her, the closeness of his pelt sending unexplainable tingles up her spine. _He's got a mate. He's the father of your worst enemy! Whitepaw, cut it out!_ She scolded herself.

"Now, remember to loosen the tension in your shoulders. Move with the land, like a river flowing over it. Know your territory," Addershriek murmured. Whitepaw felt the desperate need to remove the tension in the air between them.

"Yes, sir," She meowed. Addershriek stepped back and resumed his gruff mannerisms.

"Then do it again." He rumbled.

* * *

><p>Whitepaw followed Addershriek back to camp, jaws full. She had caught three sparrows painstakingly, knowing her strict mentor was watching her every move. She had tried to shake the memory of him being so close to her. It bothered her immensely. She hoped one day she could come to trust him as much as she had Waterfall. <em>Speaking of Waterfall…<em> Whitepaw thought, stepping out of the tunnel to camp and emerging in the clearing, _I think I'll take one of these to her._ Dropping two of the large brown birds, she made her way over to the nursery with the last one.

"Hello?" Whitepaw called out into the nursery. A gray form shifted in the dark.

"Whitepaw?" Waterfall's voice sounded groggily from the corner. Whitepaw was surprised, her mentor never usually went to sleep at dusk. Normally, she'd stay up into the late hours, talking and joking with the other warriors as the apprentices watched longingly.

"I, uh, brought you a little something. Unless you already ate…" She started awkwardly, dropping the sparrow and pushing it towards Waterfall. The new queen blinked sleep from her eyes, and they dropped down to the bird. Whitepaw had been immaculately proud of that bird. It was the first piece of prey she had ever caught with Addershriek, and it just so happened to be the largest of the three. The catch had been impressive, too. She studied Waterfall eagerly, waiting for her reaction. The gray she-cat broke into a thrumming purr.

"Oh, Whitepaw, thank you! It's a lovely catch, one of the largest I've seen all day. It looks delicious. I'm proud of you." Waterfall smiled. Whitepaw's chest swelled with pride. Waterfall had been her mother figure. Soft, kind, caring, motivational, and supportive. It bothered the apprentice that, in a few moons or less, Waterfall would have _real_ kits, kits to replace Whitepaw. She sniffed.

"Oh, what's wrong?" Waterfall asked, stepping towards her former apprentice.

"It's…it's just…you're more my mother than Paledove ever was," Whitepaw whimpered, "And now you're gonna have your own kits…and I won't be…special anymore." She cried. Waterfall's green gaze softened and she padded up to Whitepaw, wrapping her tail tightly around the fluffy white she-cat.

"Whitepaw, no matter what, you'll always be special. Paledove will see it, I'm sure of it. She will one day. But I will always think of you as my _first_ apprentice. My _first_ kitten. Now, go get something to eat, and sleep well," Waterfall murmured, nuzzling the larger cat. Whitepaw glanced at her gratefully before moving to leave.

"Thank you," She sighed. Waterfall dipped her head. Whitepaw turned and exited the nursery, intent on getting the plump vole she saw in the freshkill pile earlier. As she reached the pile, she realized most of the other cats had gone to sleep already. Darkness had fallen when she was with Waterfall, and the moon was a faint sliver in the sky. As she bent down to sink her teeth into the tempting, juicy piece, Whitepaw's ears pricked. She heard a faint…crying sound. It was escaping from behind the warrior's den. Stealthily, she abandoned her late meal and crept towards it. A thick clump of ferns was nestled behind the warrior's den, and she snuck into it, peering through the lacey green strands. Inside of them, she could just make out a silvery glow. Something she could only describe as…moonbeams. _But the moonlight is so weak tonight..._Whitepaw thought confusedly. Moving closer, Whitepaw realized the pale silver wasn't moonbeams. It was…her mother. Paledove crouched low in the underbrush, body wracked with sobs. The clear, shimmering tears ran down her face like small rivers, streaming to the ground and pooling at her paws. The warrior's crystal blue eyes were squeezed shut, and her fur was damp and matted. _Yet she still looks beautiful. Like Starclan themselves shaped her out of their light._ Whitepaw thought jealously. _How can she be _my _mother_? She listened to Paledove, and realized the sobs weren't just some strange guttural noises…they were _words_. Straining her ears, Whitepaw could hear her mother's lamenting cries.

"He…he doesn't love me! I worked so hard, I had to go through so much to get him, and now he's slipping away…We could've been so perfect. I was supposed to be perfect! My _life _was supposed to be _perfect_! And now he's left, gone in his heart and his mind, and he doesn't even have the heart to _tell_ me that he doesn't love me anymore. He always leaves, I never see him, we never speak. And my daughter…my sweet, beautiful daughter. So smart, so talented, she's the only one who comforts me…but he's gone. I waited for so long to have him…but no." Whitepaw shifted her weight, fascinated, but no longer paying attention to being quiet. A twig snapped beneath her paw. Paledove whipped around, eyes ablaze, and spotted Whitepaw. Her face twisted from mourning to hatred.

"You!" She snarled, "You destroyed me!"

"Mother-!" Whitepaw squeaked, stumbling backwards.

"You are _not_ my kit you _never_ were my kit and you _never_ will be my kit! I have one daughter! But you…you are why he doesn't love me! You should've never been _born_!" Paledove hissed, glaring ferociously at Whitepaw. The she-cat tripped in her haste to get away from the warrior, whose fury made the very air heated. Whitepaw dove into the apprentice den and cowered in her nest.

_She'll never love me…she loves only Swanpaw….father still hasn't told her….she hates me…_These thoughts ran rampant through her mind, until finally, she exhausted herself and collapsed, falling into a deep, dark sleep.

**QOTD: What do you think of Whitepaw's new mentor?**

**I love hearing all of your thoughts, ideas, and opinions! Review please! Even a simple 'good chapter' or 'I like Addershriek' or 'WhiteXBark' or whatever makes my day :)**

**-Bright**


	22. Cry to Me

**Okay, some things to straighten out. Poppypaw in the prologue is Goldenpaw/frost. I decided to change her name. And Rainpaw's name is Rainwing, not Rainmist. That's the name of one of my other characters. Sorry y'all! **

Whitepaw collapsed on the ground beside Barkpaw. Her muscles burned and her heart pounded as if she had run through the entire territories. It was understandable. A moon of working with Addershriek had toughened her, but she still wasn't used to the way he pushed her to her limit everyday. Every day she'd be stronger, more eager, more willing to learn. And, at the end, Whitepaw would be reduced to a puddle of overworked muscle, sweat, and tangled fur. She groaned.

"Is someone exhausted?" Barkpaw teased, grinning. Whitepaw barely had the energy to scowl at him.

"You have no idea what pain and suffering I've had to endure today!" She exclaimed, rolling closer to him. The smaller apprentice looked at her amusedly.

"Oh, yeah? Like what?" He asked.

"Well, he made me run laps around the borders. And after, we climbed to the top limb of the oak with the eagle's nest. I swear, I almost lept out of my fur when that big bird was circling us! Then, we held mock battles on each of the borders. Finally, he made me catch two squirrels, two mice, and two of three different types of birds to make sure I could prove my worth! Great Starclan, that tom is going to kill me before I even get my warrior's name!" She complained. Barkpaw laughed.

"Wow, he's got his paws full." He meowed.

"Him?! What about me?!" Whitepaw squawked indignantly.

"He has to put up with your complaints! And your energy! If you didn't have so much energy, you wouldn't be able to complain to me at the end of the day," Barkpaw pointed out.

"I guess…but I'm still tired. And sore." Whitepaw grumbled, licking a forepaw. Barkpaw rolled his eyes.

"You're lucky you have such a good mentor. I wish I could have training like that!" He mewed reverently.

"I think your mentor is pretty good," Whitepaw said.

"Yeah, Duckflight's pretty fun," He agreed, "And she was taught by Addershriek so I guess that's second best," He decided.

"I'll trade!" Whitepaw offered, then, she shook her head, "Nah, I wouldn't. He's strict, but I like my mentor."

"Yeah," Barkpaw said quietly. He rested his head on his paws and closed his eyes. Whitepaw basked in this feeling of togetherness. She was glad Barkpaw had finally snapped out of his Swanpaw obsession and decided to spend time with his friends again. Of course, he still liked her, but he didn't sulk over it anymore. Whitepaw guessed it was because Timbermask was still ignoring Swanpaw. He socialized only with the other warriors, and often cast scornful glances over to the apprentices. They bothered Swanpaw and a few of the younger apprentices, but Whitepaw and Barkpaw barely noticed them. They had lived their entire lives under mocking looks ad harsh words. Rainwing still made obnoxious comments whenever she passed by, but Timbermask never said a word, as if he was too cool to even ridicule them.

"Hey, guys!" A bright, cheery voice sounded above them. Barkpaw mumbled a 'Hey, Cherrypaw,' and Whitepaw grinned up at her friend. Cherrypaw's blue gaze shone with happiness as she plopped down beside the large white apprentice.

"You would not _believe _what just happened to me!" She squealed, tortie pelt bristling with excitement. Whitepaw rolled her eyes good-naturedly.

"Let me guess…something to do with Bouncestrike?" She purred, humoring her second friend's obsession.

"Darn right!" Cherrypaw agreed, "Quietdream got a thorn stuck deep in her paw during our training session with Honeypaw, and she made Bouncestrike, who was hunting nearby, oversee the whole thing! I got so ticked when Honeypaw started flirting with him, but then he didn't pay any attention to her at all! He walked over and started talking to me, and we spent the rest of the session sitting there talking! We never ran out of things to say to each other! Honeypaw stalked off at some point, but we didn't notice. It was _magical_! I could feel the chemistry between us! Every time our paws or whiskers touched, it was like lightning striking! Oh my Starclan, it was better than a fat rabbit in Leafbare!" Cherrypaw gushed. Whitepaw pretended to listen for a while, but when it became clear that Cherrypaw wasn't going to stop her endless babbling, the she-cat turned her attention elsewhere.

She gazed up at the trees, where the green leaves were beginning to turn red, yellow, gold and orange. The emerald foliage was tipped with the colors of a sunset, as if they were dipped in the shimmering, liquid fire colors of a painter's palette. The first cool, whisker-quivering breezes of Leaffall were arriving, swishing through Shadowclan camp and the territories either as soft as a blue jay's wing or as furious as an addled adder. In between those wispy hints of colder seasons approaching, she felt the sunshine warm her tired pelt and the baked dirt and pine needles make the ground beneath her comfortable and sleepy, easing the aches and pains of her miserable muscles.

Whitepaw sighed happily and looked at Barkpaw. His brown face rested easily on his darker paws, and his eyes were closed. His tail twitched slightly at the brush of the breeze and his berry pink nose wiggled. Whitepaw smiled. It was good to have her best friend back. Cherrypaw had finally quieted, and was snoozing beside her. As soon as Whitepaw had closed her eyes and settled sleepily onto the ground, though, Barkpaw spoke.

"Hey, Whitepaw?" He asked. She didn't bother opening her eyes. She was expecting one of those questions that had bombarded her in the nursery. Things like, 'Why do birds fly?' or 'How does wind blow?' or 'What does it smell like in Starclan?'

"Umph?" She grunted.

"Does…does Swanpaw like me?" He whispered. Whitepaw cracked open one golden eye to peer at her friend. The young tom's round face was open and earnest. Whitepaw thought for a moment, wanting to give the right answer. It wasn't like she could make something as she had in the past. _Swanpaw is difficult…it's clear that she still loves Timbermask but she hasn't been as distant from us lately. She seems to have toned down the pining and whining ordeal. And…she talks to him quite a bit. I mean, it's not like she _doesn't_ like him. Maybe that's my answer._

"Well…she doesn't _not_ like you," Whitepaw mewed, closing her eyes again. _Conversation over._ She thought, satisfied. _Now for a nice, long, nap…_

"But, does she _like_ me like me?" Barkpaw pressed.

"I don't know, Barkpaw. Sure, she does, can I sleep now?" She grumbled, tail lashing. Cherrypaw, who Whitepaw had thought was sleeping, giggled.

"I dunno…I think she still likes Timbermask. But he's so mean! He doesn't even look at her! I could treat her so much better, don't you think?" Barkpaw rambled.

"Sure," Whitepaw nodded halfheartedly, desperately trying to tune him out. _Sleep…_

"Think I have a chance with her?" Barkpaw asked.

"I guess. But don't come crying to me when you get hurt. She _will_ hurt you, Barkpaw, because he hurt her. It's a vicious cycle." She said, repeating what Frecklestep had told her once in a conversation about Paledove.

"Wow! So I do have a chance!" Barkpaw chirped excitedly, Whitepaw's warning flying over his head, "Thanks, Whitepaw!"

Golden orbs snapped open.

"Whoa, hold up, I never said-Didn't you hear me? I said-Aw, Barkpaw for Starclan's sake come back and listen to me!" she cried after her friend, who was busy dashing off to Swanpaw. The elegant she-cat sat in the corner, meticulously grooming her ears and whiskers with a glossy-furred paw. Her pelt shone in the fading sunlight.

"Brothers! What're you gonna do?" Cherrypaw mumbled sleepily from her spot on the ground. Whitepaw made to get up and chase after Barkpaw, but she didn't. _He has to learn to handle things like this on his own._ She thought painfully. Whitepaw had helped him through kithood, being teased and tormented, rejected and scorned throughout his first six moons. She had protected him in the early moons of being an apprentice, when Rainwing, Timbermask, and Bouncestrike were cruel. _Now,_ she decided, _He has to go out on his own. Face the real world. It's harsh, but…it's part of life._ She gazed, glassy eyed, over towards the pair. Cherrypaw had opened her eyes and stood up beside Whitepaw, pressing her small tortie form to her friend's thick white pelt as the wind rattled through camp and chilled their bones. Barkpaw bounced eagerly, jabbering his muzzle off, blue-green eyes alight as he looked at Swanpaw. Swanpaw sat stonily, staring at him with a blank green gaze. She watched as Barkpaw asked a question, and paused, waiting excitedly for the answer. Whitepaw winced when her sister's blank look curdled and her mouth twisted into a snarl. Her ears folded back and Whitepaw watched a heated, one-sided exchange, with Barkpaw backing up further and further with every hissed word that spewed from the mouth of his beloved. Swanpaw whipped around and stormed away, leaving Barkpaw standing in a cloud of dust and fallen pine needles, alone and brokenhearted. Whitepaw instantly regretted her words.

_Come cry to me…I'll be your comfort. I hate seeing you hurt. Come cry to me, I'll be your ear to listen, your shoulder to rest on. I'll be the moss to warm you, the stars to shine on you, and the friend to lie next to you forever and always. Come cry to me, and I'll love you._ She thought.

"Oh, Whitepaw, look," Cherrypaw whispered. Barkpaw stood dejectedly, and even from afar, both she-cats could see the tears that fell on the ground, making small dark spots on the ground and sending up dust-splashes in tiny puffs about his forepaws. They watched him fall to the ground, and his shoulders shook and quaked as the sobs wracked his body.

"Starclan!" Whitepaw exclaimed, dashing forward. Cherrypaw followed and they reached Barkpaw in heartbeats.

"Oh, Barkpaw…" Whitepaw murmured, pressing her side against the young tom. He looked up, eyes glazed over with floppy tears that then flowed like waterfalls from his big blue-green eyes.

"W-Whitepaw," He whimpered, pressing his soft brown face into her fur.

"It's okay…I'm here for you," She whispered. Fatigue disappearing in the wake of her friend's tragedy, Whitepaw helped the tom back to his nest in the den. Cherrypaw watched sadly and tried to help, but soon realized she was the third wheel. Backing away slowly, the tortie she-cat left Whitepaw and Barkpaw alone.

"Oh, Barkpaw," Whitepaw sighed. The smaller apprentice was nestled into his nest, curled into a tight ball, droplets leaking from his eyes squeezed tight.

"W-Whitepaw…why? Why, why would she say that?" He whispered, voice cracking. Whitepaw padded over and curled around him, like her mother hadn't in the nursery. Gently, she lapped at his ears. His breaths shuddered in his chest.

"Say what?" She mewed quietly.

"Sh-she said that…that she'd never love me. She-she said that she will spend her life with Timbermask, and that…that I'll die alone. She _h-hates_ me, Whitepaw! What did I ever do to her?" He sobbed. Whitepaw was taken aback by her sister's brutality, and felt her heart burn. _How dare she!_

"Barkpaw, you won't die alone. There are plenty of wonderful she-cats out there, better than Swanpaw, who will love you, and appreciate you, and see you for who you really are inside. And until you find the one, you'll always have me and Cherrypaw, right? We have so many more moons until we should even _consider_ love. Swanpaw is foolish and doesn't have the faintest idea of what she's talking about," Whitepaw said firmly between licks. Barkpaw sighed and sniffled.

"But-but Whitepaw, I have no one. This Clan…this isn't home for me," He whispered.

"You have your siblings, Featherfall, Hollowstar, your father, Duckflight, and me, too! What am I, crowfood?" She adds teasingly, but for the most part her tone was serious. Barkpaw lifted his gaze to hers.

"Whitepaw…you're my best friend. But, but I don't know how long that will last. Cherrypaw…she's far too caught up with Bouncestrike to really be close to. My other siblings…they don't pay me any thought, Whitepaw. They and the rest of the Clan think I'm kittypet scum. Featherfall and Hollowstar…they aren't my real parents. When it comes down to it, they will always put their kits ahead of me. And father thinks I'm a disappointment. I can't fight, and just barely can I hunt the easiest mouse. Duckflight isn't able to help me get anything right. Face it, Whitepaw. Shadowclan isn't my home," Barkpaw meowed solemnly. Whitepaw stopped her grooming of Barkpaw and her eyes welled up.

"No! Don't you dare say that! I'll be your best friend forever, Barkpaw! And Shadowclan is your home! Starclan willed you here!" Whitepaw protested.

"Starclan didn't will me here, Whitepaw. My father did. And I bet he regrets it. I think-I think I'm going to leave." The brown tom says, dropping his eyes so as not to have to meet Whitepaw's.

"Barkpaw…" She whimpered, "What will I do without you? Where will you go? You can't leave!"

"I'll go find my mother. A-and maybe my sibling if I have any. Then, I guess I'll just find somewhere to call home. Whitepaw, you'll always be my best friend. But it's better this way." He frowned, tears tracing the lines of his face, "I'll never be accepted here. I'll…I'll never be loved, least of all by the one I love," He whispered.

"Barkpaw…" Whitepaw cried, "W-When will you tell everyone?"

"I think I'll just leave. It'll be easiest without goodbyes." Barkpaw decided, resting his face on his paws, "But…I'll stay for tonight, Whitepaw. I promise, I'll see you in the morning." He murmured, closing his eyes.

"Goodnight," Whitepaw whispered tearfully, resisting the urge to bawl. _My best friend is leaving me. But I'll be with him for one more night._ She returned to her own nest, and watched him fall asleep. Darkness fell, and Whitepaw soothed her frayed nerves and swollen eyes by just listening to his steady breaths. Suddenly, her peace was disturbed. The other apprentices were turning in for the night. First came Sparrowpaw, who padded past Whitepaw and Barkpaw without a word. Following him were Honeypaw, Blizzardpaw, who let out a small 'Hi' as he passed, and Doepaw. Cherrypaw trudged in last, eyes half-closed, and glanced at Barkpaw worriedly. Whitepaw gave a small nod, as if everything were okay. Cherrypaw continued on. Whitepaw looked around for Swanpaw, wanting desperately to give that she-cat a piece of her mind. And maybe even her claws. She found her sister standing, stony and silent, at the entrance to the den. Beside her was a hulking shadowy figure. She watched fearfully as the dark shape came into the den, closer and closer to Barkpaw. It was Timbermask. Whitepaw opened her mouth to snap something witty and snappish, but she found her voice had disappeared from arguing with herself constantly about how to convince Barkpaw out of his decision. Finally, Timbermask towered above Barkpaw. He unsheathed his claws, which gleamed silver in the halflight. Whitepaw gazed helplessly after her friend as the warrior jabbed Barkpaw in the side with his claws. Ruby droplets clung to the silver slivers. Barkpaw lept awake.

"Ow!" He cried out. Then, he saw who it was. The small brown tom cowered low in his mossy nest, "T-T-Timbermask," He squeaked.

"That's right, coward," the tabby snarled, jabbing at the apprentice again, "What do you think you're doing hitting on my mate, huh?"

"Y-Y-your m-mate? Y-you mean Swanp-paw?" Barkpaw stammered, crouching lower.

"Yeah. You were hitting on her. You have no business liking her, wuss. You're nothing but a kittypet. Go run home and drink your cream, kit. Leave this Clan to the _real_ warriors," Timbermask growled. As he turned to go back out of the den, he spat fiercely, hitting Barkpaw. He chuckled. "Swanpaw was right when she said you would die alone, soft one. No creature would ever love you. Not even Uglypaw," Timbermask cast a malicious look at Whitepaw, who bared her teeth, but backed away. The brown tabby whirled around and stalked out of the den, victorious. Once he had gone, Swanpaw reentered the den and settled smugly into her nest. Whitepaw hissed at her, and turned just in time to see Barkpaw cry again. She sunk into her nest dejectedly.

_There is no perfect life for either of us here, _She thought, _But together we could make something. Friends forever, strong together._

"Up!" Addershriek barked from outside the apprentice den. Whitepaw opened her eyes and blinked sleepily. "Come on, sleepy goose. Up and at 'em! Long day ahead! Remember, your final assesments are tomorrow!" The dark tom meowed. Whitepaw tested her sore throat with a small mew, and smiled at the sound. Her voice was back.

"Okay, okay! I'm coming," She called back.

"Faster! We don't have all morning! The dawn patrol awaits!" Addershriek commanded. Whitepaw rolled her eyes. Turning to Barkpaw's nest, she pretend-scowled.

"Can you believe this tom? I'm still asleep!" she laughed. Whitepaw stopped abruptly. Barkpaw's nest…was empty. He wasn't on dawn patrol.

"No…" She whispered, feeling her heart tear inside her chest, "Y-you said one more night. You promised you'd be here for me in the morning…" Whitepaw felt her eyes well up. She dashed to his nest and sniffed it frantically. It was stone cold, and his scent was long stale. _He must've gone while I was still sleeping…after Timbermask came in. _She thought, mind racing. _We could still catch him!_ She shot out of the den, running head first into Addershriek.

"What's the hurry now, seen a spider?" The tom chuckled. His voice..so much like Timbermask. She wanted to blame him for her missing friend but she knew it wasn't right. Addershriek was not his son.

"No!" She gasped.

"Then what?" He asked, amused.

"It's Barkpaw! He's gone!" She wailed.

_Come cry to me…I'll be your comfort. I hate seeing you hurt. Come cry to me, I'll be your ear to listen, your shoulder to rest on. I'll be the moss to warm you, the stars to shine on you, and the friend to lie next to you forever and always. Come cry to me, and I'll love you._ She thought. _Come home..._

**Wow!**

**QOTD: Thoughts on Timbermask? Barkpaw? Swanpaw?**

**Update soon!**

**-Bright**


	23. Say Goodbye

**Back again! A chapter here, and a chapter for WCC, all in one day! I'm so _good_! Probably won't update for a while, seeing as I have field hockey clinics monday and tuesday, and am in NH for the rest of the week. Then, tryouts on the 25th, and if I make the team, practice all week. Yippeeeeee wish me luck!**

"What?" Addershriek meowed, startled by the urgency in his apprentice's voice. Never before had she sounded so afraid.

"Barkpaw! He-he isn't in his nest! His scent is stale! I haven't seen his since last night and there-there's only one set of paw prints leading out of the apprentice den! We need to find him, Addershriek!" Whitepaw wailed.

"Okay, okay, calm down. We'll get this straightened out, Whitepaw. I promise that we'll find him and bring him home." Addershriek said, voice slow and soft.

"But he's _gone_!" Whitepaw whimpered, "I need to find him! He's out there somewhere, all alone! He's my _best friend_ Addershriek! We need to go out now!"

"Hold on!" Her mentor exclaimed, "First, tell me exactly what happened. I know something happened Whitepaw. An apprentice wouldn't just leave for no reason. Then, we'll look around for scents and evidence to point ourselves in the right direction. We can't just jump into this battle with our claws unsheathed and no strategy. Think it through first. Tell me what happened." Whitepaw fidgeted with her paws slightly. She wanted to find her friend and get him back as soon as possible, but…she didn't want to rat out her sister. Or tell her mentor that his son is the reason Barkpaw left. But Whitepaw took a deep breath. No matter how much it hurt cats, she had to tell the truth.

"Well, you see, Barkpaw always felt out of place. And yesterday he went up to talk to Swanpaw…about…stuff…and she said some really mean things to him. So he was upset and I tried to help…we went to bed and he promised he'd be there in the morning but he was planning to leave soon. Then, Timbermask came in and he was mad about Barkpaw talking to Swanpaw and he hurt Barkpaw. There was blood, and Timbermask left. I fell asleep and he was still there, but when I woke up this morning he disappeared!" Whitepaw felt the words tumble over each other in their rush to escape. She watched as Addershriek's face got even more twisted with rage.

"My own son! He may not respect Barkpaw's heritage, but this is too much. And Swanpaw should know better, with you as her sister. She should know that words and actions are more powerful than claws. I'll be speaking to Hollowstar about this," The dark tabby hissed, stalking off towards the leader's den. Whitepaw paced frantically in the clearing. _Why, Barkpaw? You promised!_ She wanted to scream, or cry, or even just run away herself. _No, Whitepaw. Be strong. You have to find him_. She thought. She busied herself with tracing Barkpaw's faint scent trail back and forth until she had his path, and every single one of his pawsteps within camp memorized. A groggy Icegaze and even sleepier Grayshadow emerged from the warriors' den. Once the white tom spotted Whitepaw, his lip curled with disgust.

"What are _you_ doing?" He asked, voice dripping with disdain, "and where is Addershriek?"

"Barkpaw is missing," Whitepaw stated, still sniffing a dry blood droplet she'd found in the dirt, "And Addershriek went to report it to Hollowstar."

"The kittypet's gone? Good riddance. He should've left a long time ago," Icegaze snorted, stretching.

"He couldn't catch a mouse if it were dead at his paws," Grayshadow smirked. Whitepaw bristled.

"He is my friend and a member of this Clan! He deserves our respect and support. So if you mousebrains like the sound of the word _treason_ ringing in this clearing, I suggest you clean up your act," She snarled. Grayshadow's eyes widened and he backed away from her a few steps, while Icegaze glared at her defiantly.

"What would you know, reject? You're as much of an outcast as he is. Unlike him, you have no soft mama to crawl back to when life gets is not treasonous when said apprentice is not pure clancat and never will be," He sneered.

"He is a Shadowclan cat and will always _be_ a Shadowclan cat! Now get out into that forest and search for your clanmate or I will see to it that Hollowstar takes proper care of you _himself_," Whitepaw snapped, golden eyes lit like a forest fire.

"Whitepaw, I do believe you've made your point quite clear," The leader's voice sounded from behind her. She whipped around and found herself face to face with Hollowstar, his gaze stern. Whitepaw dipped her head respectfully but did not lower her eyes from his.

"With all do respect, Hollowstar, if a cat disrespects their own clanmate-" Whitepaw begins fervently, only to be cut off by her leader.

"I understand, Whitepaw. And I agree with you. We will begin sending out search parties at once. Addershriek, please alert the warriors. Whitepaw, the apprentices. Icegaze, Grayshadow? Begin the search at once. And if hear another exchange where you undermine one of our own, I _will_ discipline you. This is your warning." The young tortie said sternly. A disgruntled Icegaze and fearful Grayshadow nod with consent and leave camp hurriedly. Whitepaw didn't bask in her success, though. Instead, she dashed back to her den.

"Cherrypaw! Get up!" She whispered.

"What? Huh? Hey, aren't you supposed to be on patrol?" The miniature Hollowstar asked sleepily, blinking her eyes.

"Barkpaw's gone! He's left and we have to find him, Cherrypaw." Whitepaw mewed. The younger apprentice sat up straight in her nest, eyes wide.

"No!" She gasped, scrambling out of the moss.

"Yes," Whitepaw almost sobbed, "Wake your siblings. We have to go and find him!"

"Okay!" Cherrypaw squeaked, clambering over to where the rest of her sisters and brothers slept. Meanwhile, Whitepaw made her way slowly to Swanpaw's nest. _This is all your fault._ She thought angrily as she stared at her sister's sleeping form. _Why can't you just love him? And give up on that monster you call your true love? I could kill you right now,_ She decided, red rage hazing over her mind. Then, it cleared. _But I won't. You're my sister._

"Swanpaw." She mewed.

"Huh?" Swanpaw mumbled, cracking open one eye, "Oh. It's just you, Whitepaw," She murmured, closing it again.

"It isn't _just me_. We have to go out. Right now." Whitepaw said firmly.

"What? I'm not on dawn patrol, Whitepaw. Let me sleep." Swanpaw growled softly. Whitepaw's lips curled into a snarl.

"This is all your fault, so you better get your sorry rear up and help me!" She snapped, jabbing at Swanpaw sharply, claws sheathed.

"What's my fault, Whitepaw?! Honestly! Could you be _any more_ cryptic?" Swanpaw hissed, sitting up and glaring at her sister.

"Barkpaw is _gone_!" Whitepaw wailed, composure cracking. Her hard wall that she had used with Icegaze and Grayshadow and Hollowstar fell apart and tears leaked from her eyes, "My best friend is somewhere out there, Swanpaw. I-I need to find him…" She whispered. Swanpaw was still and silent, green eyes as large as pinecones and her mouth hanging open in a little 'o'. Finally, she shook herself out of it. It was then that Whitepaw realized Swanpaw was crying too.

"I'm so sorry! I never realized-I-Oh, Whitepaw, if I could take back what I said I would!" Swanpaw choked, "I was so terrible…I should go to the Dark Forest, Whitepaw, I really should. I was such a terrible cat, I never meant any of those things! I just…I wanted Timbermask to notice me, to love me again. I regret every word, and I hate myself for going to Timbermask. I hate myself for standing there and doing nothing. I hate myself for how _good _it felt afterwards. Whitepaw, I'm so so so sorry…" Silvery droplets raced down Swanpaw's cheeks.

"You were terrible. Last night, both you and Timbermask were monsters. But…you can make it right now. Help me find him, Swanpaw. Bring him home." Whitepaw murmured, walking out of the den. Swanpaw took a deep breath and followed. When she stepped into the campo clearing, Whitepaw found every cat gathered. She noticed Hollowstar's eyes narrow as he set his gaze on Swanpaw and Timbermask, but the dark tortoiseshell tom said nothing, for which Swanpaw was grateful. Sitting slightly apart from the warriors was Darkclaw. The tom's face was one of pure distress and fear. It was his little kit out there in the world alone. Whitepaw's heart ached in empathy. _I know how you feel…_ She wanted to say. But Darkclaw had never truly liked her.

Hollowstar organized multiple patrols, and assigned some cats to stay in camp just in case of an attack, or if Barkpaw came home, which was doubtful. Whitepaw wasn't surprised to see that Timbermask was confined to camp. She and Swanpaw set out on patrol with Kestrelwind and Blizzardpaw. Whitepaw would've laughed at Cherrypaw's patrol had the situation not been so serious. The small tortie was with Bouncestrike and Honeypaw. The golden she-cat was scowling heavily at the placement, while Cherrypaw and Bouncestrike were talking eagerly. As the four of her own patrol set out, Whitepaw tasted the air. Underneath the fresh smells of the forest and creatures, along with the unmistakable tinge of twolegs on the wind, she could just make out Barkpaw's sweet scent. Stale and cold, but to her it was as warm as the Greenleaf sun. _I'm coming, Barkpaw_. She thought. She traveled swiftly, and the other three struggled to keep up. Finally, Kestrelwind made a suggestion. Looking at Whitepaw with mistrust and disdain, she said:

"We should split up. Clearly, _she_ knows where she's going, but when she's wrong, we'll be able to find him." The dappled cinnamon warrior proposed. Swanpaw looked at Whitepaw, who had sunken back a little at Kestrelwind's tone. The white apprentice shrugged regretfully at Swanpaw, and turned away to keep moving. Swanpaw followed the other two with heavy paws. Whitepaw's ears had flattened at Kestrelwind's words. _Of course, I'm no different from Barkpaw. Maybe when I find him, I can leave too…but no, a true warrior doesn't abandon her Clan even when she's not wanted._ Whitepaw reminded herself. Then she paused. _Does this mean that Barkpaw isn't a true warrior?_ She quickly shook the thought from her mind. _Of course not._

Finally, the scent trail became stronger and more fragrant. Whitepaw knew she was a little further than the boundaries of Shadowclan's territory, but she didn't care. She would walk to the ends of the earth to find her friend. The landscape was strange and unfamiliar. The wood tapered off into a wide clearing full of short grass. Along the sides of the clearing were strips of smooth, gray stone with thin, straight lines through sections of it. Twolegs padded over them, holding each other's paws and carrying kits, or pushing them ahead in squeaky, small monsters with no tops. Trees were few in the clearing, and Twoleg dens were splattered haphazardly around the area. Whitepaw winced at their stench. She slunk back to the edge of the woods, and watched carefully as the twoleg kits played on some sort of colorful, tangled tree branches attached to no trunks. She frowned, and scanned the area. Finally, something caught her eyes. _Two_ somethings. Two cats were sitting across from each other near the woods at the edge of a pond in the clearing. One was a hulking dark figure while the other was small, slender and…brown. With darker legs, ears and tail.

"Barkpaw," She breathed. _But who is the other one?_ Then she realized…it was Darkclaw. Of course he had found his son first. Whitepaw took off through the scarce underbrush towards the pair. Ferns whipped her legs and twigs stung her face, but she kept sprinting. She soon reached them, and clambered up a tree. From there, she watched them and listened.

"Shadowclan is your home!" She heard Darkclaw rumble. Barkpaw's voice was softer, and less easily heard.

"It isn't, father. You and I both know that." Barkpaw murmured.

"Barkpaw-" Darkclaw began, only to be cut off by his son.

"My name isn't Barkpaw." He meowed. The dark warrior was taken aback.

"Of course it is!" He said forcefully, and a little fearfully.

"Mother named me Leo," Barkpaw mewed, "I remember."

"You were a little kit. She said I could take one. You had the most promise." Darkclaw meowed, his voice tender with memories.

"So I have siblings?" Barkpaw asked eagerly. Darkclaw regained his gruffness.

"Starclan only knows what those twolegs did with them. I had to take you away, son. It was for your own good. Now come home, and let's forget all this nonsense." He growled.

"I can't go back. I'm no warrior. You should've chosen someone else." Barkpaw snapped, turning away.

"You are a warrior! You are a Shadowclan warrior and you will return right now!"

"You can't make me go!"

"You wanna bet?"

"Leave me alone!"

"Get some sense!"

"Listen to me!"

"You are coming home with me and that's final!"

"I hate you!" Barkpaw screamed, "I wish anyone else was my father!" Darkclaw stumbled backwards. Whitepaw flinched at the power of those words.

"Barkpaw…" Darkclaw whispered, "You are my son, and I love you. What will I do without you? You're my last family…my only connection to Sofia. Please, Barkpaw. Leo, son, please." Darkclaw pleaded.

"Father," Barkpaw cried. Tears welled in his eyes. "I have to leave. I-I love you but I can't go back."

"Please," Darkclaw mewed desperately.

"No. I'm going home to mother. I know why you named me Barkpaw, father. Mother lives on Bark street. I'm going home to her, but I'll always love you." Barkpaw padded up to Darkclaw and nuzzled him. Darkclaw pulled his son in close.

"I'll miss you. I'll miss watching you grow, and learn. I'll miss knowing that you're there, and that I can protect you. I can't do that here." The dark tom sighed.

"Then come with me," Barkpaw said hopefully.

"No. Shadowclan is my home. And it will always be yours too. If you ever come back…I'll welcome you with an open heart."

"I'm no warrior father. Maybe they were right, and I am a kittypet. Or maybe I'm a loner. Or even a rogue. Either way, I'll miss you." Barkpaw whispered. He removed himself from his father's embrace and walked away. Both Whitepaw and Darkclaw watched him disappear.

"Goodbye Leo…may Starclan light your path," She heard Darkclaw murmur. Whitepaw held her emotions in. _He's really gone this time…he isn't coming home._ She wanted to wail her grief to Starclan, but instead she watched, and waited, as Darkclaw picked himself up and padded away into the forest. Whitepaw figured the tom had been here many times before, so she slid out of the tree and followed him quietly the whole way back home.

* * *

><p>It was all over.<p>

"I can't believe he's dead..." Swanpaw sobbed miserably into Whitepaw's shoulder. "And I never got to apologize...or even say goodbye."

Whitepaw was holding vigil in the dead of night under the stars. The air chilled her, but with Swanpaw beside her, she felt as if the world might be okay. The sisters had shared stories and memories with select few others all afternoon. Once every cat had returned, Darkclaw spun his tale. In his words, everyone learned that Barkpaw had died from battle wounds in the forest, and spoke his final goodbyes to Darkclaw when the tom had found him. His body, too mangled to bring back to camp, had been buried out at his final resting spot. To Shadowclan, Barkpaw had not run away to twolegplace. Instead, he had died courageously in battle at the claws of a rogue. Whitepaw knew that Darkclaw knew better, but she never uttered a word. The tom had to believe his son died a hero, not run away a coward. In a way, she decided, it would ease her pain if she believed it. So she sat vigil with others. She sat with Swanpaw and Cherrypaw, with Blizzardpaw and Bouncestrike, with Featherfall, Hollowstar, Duckflight, and Darkclaw. Stonetail had joined as well until he and Goldenfrost snuck out into the night. Every other cat had gone to bed without shedding a tear, or even blinking an eye. He had been a kittypet, they said. He had no warrior skills, they said. He was better off dead, they said. Whitepaw wished they were dead. She had watched stonily as Paledove nuzzled Swanpaw goodnight and left without sparing her other daughter a glance. _It will be a long night._ She thought. _A night for silence and pain. Loss and mourning. Mourning for things that never were, and grief for things that will never be._

**QOTD: I have none. Just give me your opinions on the chapter**

**Update eventually!**

**-Bright**


	24. Spotted Sunshine, Crests of Crimson

**Wow! One update before I leave!**

"From this moment on, you will be known as Swanmist. Starclan honors your skill and courage, and welcomes you as a full warrior of Shadowclan." Hollowstar announced.

"Swanmist, Swanmist, Swanmist!" The Clan cheered heartily. The new warrior puffed up with pride, and Whitepaw smiled. Her sister had worked hard to become a warrior. Their assessments had been delayed, and they were made warriors late due to their time allowance to grieve. _"Grieve"_ Whitepaw thought miserably. _Barkpaw should be here now. Cheering us on. Taking his assessments soon, with his littermates. Sleeping with us in the warriors' den. But…I guess he's happier now._

"Whitepaw, please step forward." Hollowstar's booming voice shocked her out of her thoughts. Nervously, she took small steps toward her leader. The tom looked down at her with shining eyes. What they shone with, exactly, she couldn't be quite sure of. She could hear the suspicious, doubtful murmurs of her clanmates behind her, thankful that Addershriek's voice was not among them. She had come to appreciate her mentor and all the things he had done for her. The training and how he had pushed her to her limit every day without breaking her had strengthened both her body and her mind. The Clan's words no longer stung so ferociously, but they still caused an ache in her heart. Almost like a pebble that had been lodged in her paw. Time would smooth it, but the pain would never truly leave her.

"Addershriek, Waterfall, has this apprentice trained hard and worked to understand and respect the ways of the warrior code and the ways of Shadowclan?" Hollowstar asked. Whitepaw held her breath, though she didn't need to.

"Yes, she has." Addershriek rumbled, pride in his voice. Waterfall nodded in turn. Hollowstar dipped his head.

"Starclan, this apprentice has worked hard to understand your noble code and the ways of the Clans, and we commend her to you as a warrior in return. Whitepaw, from this moment on, you shall be known as Whitefang. Starclan honors your perseverance and promise, and we welcome you as a full warrior of Shadowclan." Hollowstar finishes with a flourish of his tail. Whitefang's eyes widened.

_Whitefang,_ She tested the name in her mind. _A powerful name. Why would he give me such a name, when he gives Swanmist one that signifies beauty? Oh, right. I'm not beautiful. But, maybe…in his eyes I am strong. Swanmist and Whitefang. Beauty and strength._

Stepping forward, she licked her leader's shoulder. In her ear, he whispered,

"Whitefang. I do hope you live up to your name. It is one with a history, and do take care not to tarnish it." Hollowstar said firmly. Whitefang nodded, though she was confused.

_Tarnish it? What am I, a kit? And what history?_ She wondered. Turning around, she heard the rising voices cheering her name. Among them, she could choose the ones that touched her heart. There was Stonetail, and Duckflight. Goldenfrost, Shyfawn, Cherrypaw, and Waterfall. Addershriek, though Blueshine was silent. Swanmist cheered as well, mouth open wide in a triumphant yowl. When their eyes met, the pale green ones seemed twinkle, as if to say _We made it_.

_Yes._ Whitefang thought with satisfaction. _Yes, we did._

"Whitefang, Whitefang, Whitefang!" The call surged into the thin late-Leaffall air. So thin and chilled, it seemed that it would shatter with the noise.

"Whitefang, Swanmist, Whitefang, Swanmist!" Whitefang heard her own voice rise up and join the cats calling her sister's name. The shouting continued until every cat was hoarse. Whitefang, however, was happy with the dry, crackling of her throat. It was proof. _This is not a dream._ She decided with finality. _I am truly a warrior._ Their ceremony had been right as dusk fell, and now the night had come. The air had cooled even more now, and the velvety blackness of the sky enveloped the pale pelts of the sisters. Whitefang looked at Swanmist.

"Do you remember when we promised each other to be the best warriors ever?" She asked, her voice cracking.

"Yes," Swanmist replied with a small smile, "I do. We've done it now, Whitefang. I'm so proud of you."

"Proud of _us_," Whitefang corrected, nuzzling her sister. Swanmist purred.

"Yeah. We've come so far from-"

"Swanmist!" An all too familiar voice cooed. Whitefang stiffened while Swanmist merely turned around.

"Mother," She meowed coolly.

"Why so unfriendly, love? I'm so _proud of you_!" Paledove purred, padding up to the silver and white warrior and rubbing her cheek against her daughter's, "I always _knew_ you would be the perfect warrior. Did you hear what Hollowstar said? Skilled and courageous. That is _wonderful_ darling1 And your name is so beautiful!" Paledove gushed. Swanmist smiled.

"Isn't it though? It's quite pretty but I _love_ Whitefang's name. It's just so…I don't know. It fits her. Brave, and powerful. As Hollowstar said, full of promise." Swanmist said admirably, looking at her sister. Whitefang flushed.

"Well, I-" She began, only to be cut off icily by her mother.

"Why bother? We know she won't last long anyway. Full of promise? Doubtful. But _you,_ my dear, are going to go far." Paledove sighed happily. Swanmist shifted awkwardly in her spot.

"Mother…you're sort of interrupting our vigil, so-" She started.

"_Our_ vigil? Dearest, we both know it's _your_ vigil. _She_ doesn't deserve a name." Paledove snapped. Her words were clipped and hard. Whitefang flinched.

"mother, you should be getting to bed." Swanmist meowed firmly. Paledove smiled at her daughter, and shot a glare at Whitefang before turning around and heading back to the warrior's den. Swanmist sighed.

"I don't know what's the matter with her, I'm so sorry, Whitefang." She said miserably.

"Don't." Whitefang meowed. "Don't apologize for her. She's made her own choices."

The two sat in silence for the rest of the night and into the morning.

Whitefang blinked sleepily. Her eyes were dry and blood shot, her pelt stiff from cold. Swanmist was dozing lightly beside her. Whitefang prodded her sister.

"Huh? What? Oh no, I did it again, didn't I?" Swanmist groaned, snapping awake.

"Yep," Whitefang chuckled, "But it's over now. The dawn patrol left a few moments ago." She said, licking a paw and running it over her ear. She gave up, realizing her tongue was as dry as her eyes. Swanmist got up and stretched.

"I'm so sore. Sitting in one position all night long did nothing for me," She fretted, flexing each paw individually before reaching out again and elongating her back.

"Same," Whitefang sighed, hauling herself to her paws, "I think I'm gonna go sleep."

"I know, right?" Swanmist agreed, following her sister over to the apprentice den.

"Wait!" Whitefang said, stopping suddenly.

"What?" Swanmist asked. Whitefang grinned slyly.

"We're _warriors_ now!" She laughed. Swanmist paused for a moment, letting the words sink in. then, she glanced over to where they had been heading. The she-cat giggled.

"Oops!" She said lightly.

"Come on, first one in's a piece of crowfood!" Whitefang laughed, dashing to the gaping entrance to their new den. Swanmist dashed after her giddily. Whitefang pretended to overshoot her run, and whipped a right turn at the last second, swinging into the den and immediately stomping all over some cat.

"Hey, watch it!" The sleeping form hissed, cracking open one amber eye. His pelt blended in with the shadows. Whitefang's eyes widened.

"Oh Starclan, I'm so sorry Bouncestrike!" She squeaked like a startled kit. She hid her face with embarrassment. Bouncestrike scowled, but then cracked a smile.

"S'okay, Whitefang. My first dawn patrol as a warrior? I tripped over Dawnstrike and fell on Icegaze. It can't get much worse than that," He chuckled. Then, gesturing with his tail over to the far left corner, "Duckflight made you two some nests back there. Windy nights, it gets a little drafty, but that's nothing a patch won't fix. Welcome," He smiled, closing his eyes and going back sleep. Whitefang crept past him, whispering a faint "Thanks" as she went by. He acknowledged her with a twitch of his ear. Making her ways through the sleeping bodies, Whitefang found herself beside a pair of nests, right next to each other. Both were filled with plush emerald moss and laced with soft gray feathers. Exhausted, she collapsed into it, closing her eyes. She heard Swanmist enter the den. Apparently she was far more graceful that Whitefang, slinking through the den without disturbing anycat's sleep. Whitefang felt a pang of irrational jealousy. _Why does she have to be so perfect?_ She thought bitterly. _Why am I always that klutz, or the loser, or the ugly sister? _She soon shook off these thoughts. _Whitefang, you terrible sister. Jealousy is never right. _But she felt that same green monster rise up in her chest as she heard Timbermask's voice.

"Hey, beautiful," He murmured. She heard Swanmist purr. Whitefang peeked out of her nest to watch the exchange enviously. Swanmist was coiled around the pale tabby tom, whose face was buried in her neck. Their tail twisted together like twin cobras.

"I'm so happy to see you," Timbermask whispered.

"Oh, are you?" Swanmist answered teasingly. She batted her snowy eyelashes and widened her green eyes innocently. Timbermask purred.

"Of course. Why wouldn't I be? You're a warrior now. I can spend more time with you." He smiled.

"And me you," Swanmist sighed, pressing her cheek to his.

"Why don't you stay with me? This nest is built for two," The tom persuaded.

"Well…I was going to stay by Whitefang…"Swanmist mewed, indecision in her soft voice.

"Her? Why?" Timbermask asked, shocked. Whitefang bristled, but smoothed her pelt almost instantly.

"She's my sister!" Swanmist snapped. Timbermask stepped away, hurt.

"Fine, fine. I'll see you when you wake up." The older warrior said, "I'll have a surprise waiting for you." He added. Swanmist worked up a purr.

"Alright. Maybe tonight," She offered, padding away carefully.

"Sweet dreams," Timbermask sighed. Whitefang closed her eyes as she heard Swanmist plop down in her adjoining nest. A long, satisfied sigh escaped the silver and white she-cat as she settled in.

"Sleep well, Whitefang," Swanmist murmured sleepily. But she needn't have. The white warrior was already fast asleep.

Whitefang woke alone. Swanmist's nest was already empty; the she-cat must've needed less rest due to her slips during the vigil. The fluffy white warrior spent a few minutes trying to groom her perpetually tangled pelt before giving up and exiting the warrior's den. The camp clearing was bustling, and Whitefang grinned. _No more training! _She thought happily. Addershriek must've been enjoying the peace as well; he was relaxing, sharing a meal with his mate. Whitefang resisted the urge to spit at Blueshine. She couldn't stand that she-cat almost as much as she couldn't stand her own mother. _Speaking of Paledove…_Whitefang glanced around the clearing to find the pale silver warrior eating beside…was that Swanmist? Yes, it was. The two she-cats were sharing a plump squirrel with Timbermask. Paledove was beaming proudly at both of the younger warriors, who were sharing adoring looks over their prey. Whitefang resisted yet another urge, the urge to gag up the little prey in her system. _How sickeningly perfect,_ Whitefang decided, snatching up a vole from the pile, _Before you know it, Swanmist will be expecting kits with that…thing._ She tore a vicious bite from her vole and chewed it, a scowl imprinted on her muzzle. _A perfect little family. A perfect mother, a perfect father, perfect grandparents, and perfect kittens. And then there's me, the outcast._ She growled, tearing another chunk from the prey. _No thank you, that's what I say. I wouldn't want to associate with that little scene if my life depended on it. No, that's not true. I would probably be happy for my sister and adore her kits. Stonetail would still love me. And maybe Swanmist too. And I would love her, and I'd love Timbermask and Paledove if it would make her happy. Sisters forever. We will hurt each other no more._ Whitefang decided. She also decided to stop mutilating her vole.

_Ew, look at this thing._ She thought, prodding it with a paw. Her teeth had torn jagged lacerations in its flesh, where it oozed blood slowly. The fur was mangled, some bones snapped. It didn't even _look_ like a vole anymore. _Nasty._ Whitefang stuck out her tongue, pushing the rodent away. _Now I've lost my appetite. Figures. I ruin my own appetite. _She stood up and hastily buried the half-eaten creature. _Hope no one saw that._ She stretched and glanced around nonchalantly. _What a waste_. She scowled, looking at the fresh dirt that hid her mistake. _Guess I'll go hunting. That could've fed some cat._ She shivered as the wind hit her. _And maybe I'll patch up that corner by my nest. Wouldn't want these gusts to get us while we're sleeping._ She decided. Walking quickly and with purpose, Whitefang headed out into the forest. It was the end of Leaffall. The trees had lost all but a few of their brown, crumbling leaves and every morning frost coated the ground. All it required now was the first snowfall to signify that the seasons had shifted into the worst and most dreaded one of all. Leafbare.

The prey wasn't running much anymore now that the forest had cooled, and neither were the cats. Everyday, more and more cats were staying in camp. Of course, Waterfall had no choice. Her kits were to be born soon, and Mothwhisker had just moved into the nursery as well. Dawnstrike was nervous, as he would be a new father. Icegaze, however, was even closer to fatherhood and his nerves were steel. It was as if nothing worried him at all. Whitefang, however, was probably more worried than Dawnstrike. She knew that expecting queens were far more susceptible to illness than the other cats, and that kits were ever _more_ delicate. With Leafbare, the season of sickness looming before them, it was almost the _worst possible time_ to be expecting. Whitefang shivered. She couldn't bear the thought of something happening to her first mentor, or her future children. Even though she didn't like Mothwhisker very much, she hated thinking that she would sicken too. _The more prey I bring back, hopefully the easier it will be for Shadowclan to survive the cold season_. Whitefang decided, dropping low. Before she could scent anything, however, the loud laughter of apprentices jerked her out of the zone. It also happened to startle a pair of slender sparrows who had been roosting above her head. She snatched at them in vain, her long limbs still not reaching far enough. She dropped to the ground with a frustrated growl. She watched the birds as they flew away, but another sudden sound startled them. They fluttered in different direction, one of them hitting their tiny heads on a thick oak bough. It fell from the sky, its brethren doing nothing to save it.

_Smart bird._ Whitepaw thought, following the path it took in the decent. Finally, the bird met the ground. She towered over it, watching it. There were shallow breaths it its body, and Whitepaw couldn't help feeling sorry for the scrawny thing. Clearly, it hadn't been eating very much. The tiny, slender ribs jutted out beneath its thin layer of feathers, and it shivered while unconscious. One of its legs was crooked from the landing; bent at an awkward angle that Whitefang assumed meant it was broken. It twitched, suddenly, and Whitefang realized it wasn't going to be dead for a while yet. _Might as well finish him off now, and put him out of his misery._ She figured, raising a paw to strike. But she let the white appendage fall to the forest floor. _I can't do this._ She thought miserably. _The poor thing…only trying escape death and being struck down by its own home. It wasn't even fate, just sheer coincidence. _She glanced up, and saw its partner watching curiously from high above. She swore if birds could talk, it would be asking her to help. Whitefang looked back down at the invalid, and gently took it in her mouth, curling her lips over her teeth as not to hurt it. Glancing around, she noticed a hollow in the trunk of one of the trees, high above the ground. With a grumble, she began to climb.

Once she reached the hollow, she was surprised to find it must've been the home of some forest creature at some point in the not so distant past. There were small shiny things littered about the rotted trunk, along with dusty, large, glossy black feathers. _A crow? They collect twoleg things, don't they?_ She wondered. But the bird scent was stale, they must've moved on. Moss was growing on the inside of the hollow on the dying wood, and, when Whitefang stuck her berry pink nose inside, the gap was plenty warmer than the air outside. Almost like a cat's den. _Maybe birds aren't so stupid._ She decided, tucking the limp flyer in a cozy corner. She propped its head up with scrap of moss, and pushed feathers about the body. She contentedly watched the rise and fall of its small chest, knowing the bird would wake soon. There were stale seeds about the hollow, which she knew it would feed on upon awakening. The bird, she noticed, was a rather pretty thing. It was an off-white color on the chest, with a multitude of brown markings in different shades. I also had a curious yellow dot above its eye and beak on either side of its head. _Like a dot of sunshine._ Whitefang smiled. _That's your name. Sunspot. _She figured it must be strange to name a bird, but she was a stranger in Shadowclan to many anyway. And it wasn't like anycat would know. _And your friend,_ She thought to Sunspot, _Has a funny little crest of red on his head. His name will be Russettuft. _She knew that if Barkpaw, no, _Leo_, were here, she would tell him about her new found friends immediately, and that he would come to visit them. But he wasn't here. _Barkpaw…Leo…whatever your name is now. I miss you. Come home._

**Awwww sensitivity.**

**QOTD: Bird thoughts? Timbermask thoughts? Paledove thoughts? Names? Anything goes!**

**Love y'all**

**-Bright**


	25. Life for a Life

**I'm back, after forever. Freshman year is hectic and I can't really find time for anything other than field hockey and homework anymore. But I'll try!**

Every day, Whitefang checked up on Sunspot and Russettuft. She would return to the hollow in the trunk of the great oak tree in the middle of a frozen forest. After a week Sunspot had gained back most of his strength, hopping around the cavity with pep. Whitefang delighted in his recovery, and slowly earned the little bird's trust. Russettuft was harder to please, and it took three pawfuls of poppy seeds to convince him that Whitefang was even remotely approachable. But now, after one moon, the sparrows fluttered about her head brazenly. They would land on her and twitter in her ears, their merry warbling the sweetest music. Whitefang would hunt not for prey, but for seeds and nuts to feed her new friends. Occasionally, she would catch herself and snatch the stray, skinny mouse or squirrel for the Clan, but most of her time was taken by the birds.

"Where are you off to? You're never around anymore," Swanmist frowned as Whitefang quickly wolfed down her meal, licking her lips and rising.

"Well, I have things to do," Whitefang responded easily, turning away.

"Are you hiding something from me?" Swanmist teased, though her eyes were serious.

"What would I hide?" Whitefang shrugged.

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe forbidden love runs in the family," Swanmist said, words short and clipped. Whitefang bristled.

"How dare you accuse me of that! I would never!" She snapped. Swanmist raised her white tail in surrender.

"It was only a guess," She defended herself, "And I'm glad you're not. We could use some time together, though. Don't you think?"

"I guess," Whitefang said cautiously. Her mind was elsewhere, flitting near the hollow with the sparrows. Swanmist's voice brought her back to the camp.

"The freshkill pile's pretty low. Let's hunt," She mewed cheerfully, rising to her paws. Whitefang towered above her, Swanmist's chin level with her shoulder.

"Alright," She agreed. _Guess I could use some time as a cat, not a bird…_ She sighed., following Swanmist out of Shadowclan camp.

* * *

><p>Soon, they were laughing and racing each other through the frozen woodland, over the icy swamps, and between the dead leaves hanging precariously from stiff branches. Swanmist was quick, but Whitefang was quicker.<p>

The silver and white warrior struggled to keep up with her larger sister, and got breaks when Whitefang's tangled pelt caught on twigs. They giggled as they tumbled over each other, not caring whether or not they scared away potential food. Whitefang would pin Swanmist to the ground, and they'd tussle until the smaller warrior was on top. It wouldn't last long, though, because Whitefang would break away, dashing through the territory, her sister following close behind.

Finally, Swanmist dropped low to the forest floor.

"Shhh! I smell something," She whispered. Whitefang dropped too, happy to play along. Swanmist slunk carefully and silently to the base of a tree. Her sister followed suit. With a twitch of her ear, Swanmist gestured above their heads. Two birds fluttered around in the branches. Swanmist licked her lips and Whitefang agreed. _Food. _It wasn't playtime now. The Clan was hungry, and the first snow hadn't even fallen. The two she-cats didn't watch their prey with careful eyes, though. They were far too busy thinking about how they would taste, rather than how they would catch them. Swanmist slithered up the trunk of a large tree, and Whitefang watched her.

_Food will be good. _She figured. _Waterfall's kits are due soon, and Mothwhisker is getting larger. If anycat gets sick, being well fed helps them fight it. All in all, a contribution to the health of Shadowclan this Leafbare. _She decided. One of the birds had landed in an adjoining tree. Whitefang crept towards it, and stealthily crawled up the dry, brown bark. As she came closer to her target, Swanmist neared hers too. The she-cat waited at the base of the bough her bird rested upon, glancing periodically at Whitefang's progress. Eventually, the cautious white she-cat reached the branch that the bird sat on. The two huntresses locked gazes, waiting for a signal. Whitefang flicked her tail twice. Both began to stalk. Her bird sat still, head cocked, watching her. She wondered why it didn't flee. It could be that she blended in with the frosty sky, but that was highly doubtful. The bird was watching, as if waiting for something. She shook that thought away and kept stalking forward. It didn't blink an eye. Finally, both she-cats were a tail length away from their kills. Whitefang placed one paw a step closer to her bird, and it let out a call. The sound was soft and sweet and welcoming. She blinked.

That sound. She had heard it before. Blinking again, it was as if her vision suddenly cleared. The bird was brown and creamy white. Its eyes were small and shiny and black. His feathers were dappled and striped in intricate ways. And it had a red crest atop its head. Whitefang nearly fell off her branch. Looking below, she saw her sister. Swanmist was prepping to pounce. Her bird let out another warble, and the one below answered. Swanmist lept.

"No, wait, no!" Whitefang shrieked. At the sound of her voice, Russettuft launched himself into the air. Below, Sunspot did the same. But he was too slow. Swanmist had caught him on his tail feathers, and the sparrow was falling. Russettuft dove, desperately trying to reach his friend, his brother in time. "Let go, Swanmist get off of it!" Whitefang yowled. Her startled sister retracted her claws and slammed down hard into the branch below. In its weakened, brittle state, the wood snapped, sending both Swanmist and Sunspot plummeting to the ground. Whitefang lept down, and landed on one sturdy branch after another, watching as Sunspot frantically beat his wings. Feathers were flying. He was missing too many to keep himself aloft. Swanmist, however, had caught herself on the trunk of the oak. Whitefang recognized it now. She fell down past the hollow, Russettuft streaking ahead in desperation. Sunspot kept falling and falling, spinning through the thin Leafbare air like a leaf from a tree. Whitefang screamed. In a swirl of feathers and branches, She hit the ground with a dull thud and a sharp snap. Fiery pain burst into being along her leg and had the wind not been knocked out of her, a shuddering gasp would have escaped her throat. Almost instantly, despite her aching joints and burning foreleg, Whitefang heaved herself to her paws. Stumbling, black dots spinning before her eyes, she made her way over to Sunspot by smell. Surprisingly, his scent was not one mixed in blood, or punctuated with fear. Instead it mingled with something softer, sweeter…

"Swanmist?" She croaked. Blinking, the blurred haze and dancing speckles disappeared from her vision, leaving the most shockingly wonderful scene of the all. Swanmist, stretched out upon her side on the frozen, frosted ground, and a small feathered bundle clutched in her jaws. It twittered nervously.

"So?" Swanmist asked, voice muffled.

"Sunspot!" Whitefang gasped.

"What?" Swanmist mewed, confused.

"Sunspot!" Whitefang cried out gleefully, dashing, as well as she could on three legs, toward her sister.

"I think you hit your head too hard…my name is _Swanmist_," The she-cat said slowly, "And you are my _sister_. We live in _Shadowclan_. We do not normally _scream _ when somecat is about to catch _dinner_."

"Oh, thank Starclan you're all right!" Whitefang gushed.

"Ummm?" Swanmist mumbled, shooting looks at the trees as if to say: 'It's your fault she's loopy,'. When a small red-crested sparrow dive-bombed her, though, her face turned to one of surprise, and her jaws dropped, releasing her captive. The little bird fluttered away quickly and landed on Whitefang's shoulder. Russettuft perched on he tail. The added weight caused Whitefang to sit down heavily, but she still grinned ear-to-ear.

"Oh, you two sure had me scared, I was so focused I didn't recognize you! Great Starclan, imagine if we had caught you! Swanmist saved your life!" She mewed emphatically to Sunspot. Swanmist looked from her sister to her little friends carefully.

"Whitefang…is there something you haven't been telling me? Or have you gone completely mad?" She asked. The thick-furred warrior giggled.

"Oh, me? Mad? Not at all! I'm quite jovial!" She grinned. Swanmist stared at her. The euphoria faded abruptly, and Whitefang realized what this might look like to a…normal (?) clancat.

"Swanmist…" She began carefully. Soon, she had told the entire story. Her sister had watched her, and listened intently to every word out of her mouth. She had laughed and gasped at the right moments, and held her tongue all the while. For that, Whitefang was quite grateful. As soon as she had finished, the forgotten pain returned and she winced visibly.

"What's wrong?" Swanmist breathed, rushing over. Inspecting Whitefang, she frowned.

"Looks broken," Whitefang muttered. The birds had flitted away. Swanmist nodded an affirmative.

"It does," She mewed worriedly.

"Great Starclan, it hurts." Whitefang let out a little squeak as her sister tried to help her up. Swanmist shook her head slightly.

"Well, it's no use hunting anymore," she sighed with a small smile. Whitefang scowled.

"I feel useless. We caught nothing, I won't be able to do anything for _forever_, and it was _you_ who saved Sunspot. I did nothing but foolishly fall out of a Starclan-cursed tree. Fox dung!" She exclaimed. The words felt strange in her mouth. She had never swore before.

"You're not useless!" Swanmist reprimanded, "I was just in the right place at the right time," She smiled, "And I'm glad I was."

"Thank you, you know. For catching him." Whitefang said sincerely. Swanmist shrugged.

"It wasn't hard, really. And it's so sweet what you've done for those two birds. Sometimes, y'know…" She trailed off thoughtfully before looking back at Whitefang, green locked on gold, "Sometimes…I wonder if I even know my sister at all."

Whitefang flushed beneath her pale pelt.

"Honestly." Swanmist said seriously.

"Aw, c'mon-" Whitefang began.

"No. Let me finish. We were…so close when we were younger. And then…you found a friend. Not your sister, but a true friend. I always thought…that I'd have that special place in your heart. I thought Barkpaw could never replace us. But…I guess I was wrong. I got really jealous, y'know. Started hanging out with Rainwing and Timbermask and Bouncestrike. At first, they were pretty nasty. I hated all of the things they would say about you and Barkpaw. And then…they got distracted. I _tried_. I tried so hard to make them see that you were wonderful. They merely focused on what _I_ was. A good, naïve, perfect big sister who 'didn't deserve the messed up family she was given'. And they were so nice to me…and I had never had friends before. And Timbermask…" She trailed off slightly, before snapping back to the present, "And now that…he's…" She gulped, "_gone_," Whitefang winced. _Barkpaw isn't gone…he's just far away…and unreachable. In many ways._ But she kept listening.

"I-I just…Whitefang," She said, voice strained and expression pained, "If it had been you…if he had hurt you and you had…Oh, Whitefang, I was so scared! I thought I was going to lose you, too! I could _never_ _ever_ live with myself if something happened to you. If you _died_ I could never…I can't-I won't-He won't-You're my little sister! I love you!" She cried, face wet with tears. Whitefang stopped abruptly. She had never seen Swanmist…so upset. It tore at her heart, her very being. _Sisters are sisters forever. I will never hurt Swanmist. She will never hurt me. We're…unbreakable. I swear, Swanmist…I promise, I'll love you forever._

"Oh, Swanmist," She murmured, pressing her face into her sister's shoulder and leaning forward to comfort the trembling form. Her leg shot hot spikes through her body, but she didn't care. It was the warm glow in her heart that mattered.

"I love you, too." She breathed. All of the hurt, the anger, and the sense of betrayal left her at those three words. All Whitefang felt was love. Swanmist drew a shuddering breath and let it out in a great whoosh. Whitefang could tell she felt the same release.

"Now, let's get you home," Swanmist said shakily. With each step, her pace became firmer. Whitefang limped along side her, partially collapsed onto her sister. After a long while of silence, she turned her head towards Swanmist.

"Swanmist?" She mewed.

"Yes?" The she-cat replied, facing the white warrior.

"Friends together?" She asked, voice strengthening.

"Sisters forever." Swanmist agreed, her own meow confident.

The first snow began to fall.

* * *

><p>By the time the two warriors reached camp, Swanmist carrying a pair of skinny field mice to make it seem as if they had actually been hunting, not pouring out their souls in the forest because of a pair of sparrows, a soft, cold, centimeter-deep dusting lay across the ground. They shoulders their way through the dead, brittle tunnel and the moment their faces appeared in the exit, an enormous pale brown tabby blur raced towards them, knocking Whitefang off her paws. She crashed to the ground with a howl of pain, golden eyes bulging, claws unsheathed. Her leg seemed to shatter with the agony. Meanwhile, Swanmist was being assaulted.<p>

"Are you alright? Why did you take so long? You were out there for hours, I had no idea where you were! Great Starclan, I thought something happened to you, especially out there with _her_! You could've gone the same way! Please don't tell me you were anywhere _near_ the lake, I-" Timbermask was meowing at rapid speed, and soon the voice of Paledove joined the barrage.

"I can't _believe-_I _never_-You could've-Great Starclan, I don't even want to _think_ about it! Why were you out there so long? Why didn't you come back? I was so afraid! I hoped-no, I _prayed_ that you didn't-" She began, only to be cut off by a confused, exhausted, and exasperated Swanmist.

"What? What happened? What in Starclan's name is going on here?" She yowled to be heard over Timbermask's anxious yammering.

"Ow," Whitefang muttered from her prone place on the ground as Timbermask accidentally stepped on her tail. He glanced at the ground, snarled, and kicked snow into her face. Whitefang sputtered.

"You!" He growled, "You were out there with her! What were you doing?! Why did you keep her out there?! Starclan help me, it will be the last thing you ever did-" He yowled, launching himself at Whitefang. Thankfully, Darkclaw grabbed his scruff and hauled him away, red-amber eyes blazing.

"TIMBERMASK!" He roared, the tabby cowering beneath his paws, "I WILL NOT HAVE YOU AS GOOD AS KILLING OFF ANOTHER ONE OF YOUR CLANMATES, YOU FILTHY SON OF A-"

"Darkclaw! Have some respect!" Hollowstar hissed, tail lashing and spraying even more freshly fallen flurries into Whitefang's stinging eyes.

"Hey!" She snapped. Hollowstar looked down and noticed the fallen warrior.

"Oh, great Starclan, what happened to your leg?" He asked, aghast.

"It's broken, you-" Whitefang began, glancing down at her foreleg only to gasp. Instead of just being bent at a nasty angle, her second fall must've made it even worse. The pale ivory of her bone poked through the raw and bloody skin, and her entire foreleg was drenched in red and lying in a small puddle of scarlet. She felt woozy at the sight of it, but managed to resist fainting.

"Fetch Shyfawn! And hurry!" Hollowstar growled at the three warriors. Timbermask, still seething, stalked off, while Darkclaw was rooted to the frozen ground in shock. Swanmist scurried off to the medicine cat's den. She returned a moment later, frantic.

"She's not there!" She whimpered. Realization seemed to dawn on Hollowstar's face.

"Oh. Right. Check the clearing…" He said, voice resigned. Swanmist dashed off again.

"Why the clearing?" Whitefang asked, teeth gritted from pain. Hollowstar's eyes darkened.

"It's…" He meowed hesitantly, "I-I don't want to upset you in your…condition…"

"Just tell me what's going on!" Whitefang hissed.

"It was a tragic accident…" Hollowstar said slowly. Whitefang gasped.

"Not-not Stonetail?" She whispered. Hollowstar shook his head.

"See for yourself," He murmured, stepping aside. Whitefang's view of the center of the clearing cleared, and what she saw made her heart stop. A small, prone body lay amidst the sea of grieving faces, fur damp and dripping on the snow, a light sifting of snowflakes resting along the tips of its ears. A shivering figure hunched down beside it, golden eyes dark, well-muscled shoulders sloped in defeat. His face looked drawn and older in the fading light, muzzle dappled with flecks of silver. Whitefang thought back to the night where she had found his secret, lying low in the shadows of Shadowclan camp, golden pelt gleaming, blue eyes wide. _And now…_She thought bitterly, _Now, I will never see those wide eyes again._

Goldenfrost was lying in the center of camp. And she would never breathe again.

**That's one heart broken.**

**QOTD: I was thinking about writing in other genres, like maybe some Harry Potter or something. I'd like your feedback: Think I should?**

**Make sure you comment on the chapter!**

**Update eventually,**

**Bright**


	26. Sweet Secrets

**Chapter 24: And...thank you for the feedback! I actually have time to post review responses! OMFG!**

**Flutterby000- Thank you!**

**Anova- Thanks so much!**

**Leopardbreath- I always look forward to your reviews, you're so positive and supportive! Thank you so much, and I do believe I'll come out with a Harry potter one as soon as I reach either the climax of this story, or episode 30 of WCC.**

**Crazy Kiwi Coast- I'm glad you were! That means it worked! :)**

**Mnaseer2001- You're just gonna have to read and see ;)**

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**lilcacfrost of techno tribe- As I said to Leopardbreath, Harry Potter coming up soon :D**

**Amberstorm233- Why, thank you! **

**rainpool777-Update here!**

**Tansyfang- I'm glad you like Darkclaw. It was rather fun writing that part...**

**Potatotheumbreon- I know, but she's watching from Starclan.**

**Flamestar00-I hate to make you sad, but...** I'm glad it worked :)****

**Cinderfire- I'm glad you like them, and doubly glad you like the ideaof Harry Potter. I _promise _I won't abandon those two for an HP fic, though.**

Whitefang choked back a sob. She lay in the medicine cat's den, Shyfawn dressing her wounds. Her sob was not one of pain, though she had screamed as the older cat had pressed the fragments of her bone back into place. She just couldn't believe it. _I thought my father had found his happiness, the love he deserved…and now she's gone._

Earlier, she had heard her mother's voice outside the den, and through her own drawn out moans, she had made out a few words that chilled her bones.

"Well, I can't say I'm sorry…" The silver warrior had said loudly to another, "I'd known she was seeing Stonetail," Whitefang cast a sneaky glance at Shyfawn to see if she'd caught that bit, but the distracted medicine cat gave no indication that she was paying any attention to the she-cats outside. In fact, she was far too focused on pummeling herbs as if they were enemy warriors. Whitefang wondered why…

"And no matter how hard they tried to hide it, it was completely obvious," Paledove hissed, "The little wench. Trying to steal my mate. She got what was coming to her, I'll tell you that!" She said confidently. A slightly disturbed voice entered the conversation. It was Icegaze. Whitefang spat in disgust.

"The ice was very thick…It doesn't seem likely she could've fallen through. I bet there's something else going on here." He growled suspiciously. His voice had a certain edge to it, as if he had decided for himself that Paledove had one too many reasons to hate the apprentice…

"Nonsense. Merely a Starclan sent accident," The pale silver warrior replied haughtily, as if she, too, sensed his suspicions, "A terrible, terrible accident, to be sure," She added, "But she had put on quite a bit of weight. I wouldn't be surprised if that's what sent her through," Whitefang started. _Weight? Goldenfrost never had an appetite! Could it be…that I've lost…siblings?_ She wondered, heart twisting. "Truly, it is tragic, but…I'm not sorry." Paledove finished. Whitefang hissed, startling Shyfawn out of her smashing, and the small cat hurried to apply the mix to the jagged wound. Whitefang thought back to the conversation…she had drowned? Was it true? A sick feeling rose in her stomach. The ice was thick.

"H-How did she-?" She stammered, looking up at Shyfawn like a lost kitten. The medicine cat looked at her sadly, deep turquoise gaze dim and lifeless.

"Drowned," She said, voice flat and still as stone, "I had sent her to gather what's left of the Watermint near the shore. Occasionally, it's in the shallower parts of the water. She-she must've found some a bit deeper in and gone for it…she fell through. A patrol heard her scream, but by the time they got to her…it was too late. They had to ask a Riverclan patrol to dive down and retrieve her body," Shyfawn sniffed, wrapping a poultice about Whitefang's leg, "Foolish apprentice," She continued, her tone sharper, with a deeper pang of loss than before, "Should've stayed safe. Gone after the shallower stalks. Always too good for her _own_ good. Stupid she-cat." Shyfawn muttered, strapping a stick to Whitefang as a splint. Whitefang watched her carefully. She blamed herself, not Goldenfrost, the warrior could tell. She had seen that look on many a cat. Darkclaw when his son had left, Stonetail when he had fought with Paledove, and she knew she had had it, many a time. Swanmist, too.

"It's alright," She mewed softly, "Don't blame yourself. She was too sweet…" Whitefang said, and added quietly, thinking of her father, "And…important to go. We'll miss her. But the seasons still change, the sun still soars across the sky, and birds still sing," She remembered Sunspot, "So we must continue, too." Shyfawn looked at her carefully, and nodded. It was the tiniest assent, but nonetheless, it was something.

"You can go and join them for vigil, now," She murmured, busying herself with tidying the herbs. Whitefang had never seen the sharp-tongued, no-nonsense she-cat look so crushed. "I-I'll be out in a moment…"

Whitefang got to her paws cautiously, and stepped outside, taking care not to drag her forepaw. The poppy seeds had helped with the pain. Snow was falling faster now, and she could hardly see through the thick bursts. The world was whirling and spinning with white, and the gray of the sky seemed to set the mood. Bunches of her clanmates had gathered around, and all were hunched up against the gusts. Goldenfrost's body was barely visible through the flakes, tiny glimmers of gilded fur speckled the lump under the snow. Whitefang hobbled over to a dark gray shape. Eyes squinted against the lashing wind, she asked loudly,

"Stonetail? Stonetail, is that you?" But the form she collided with was most definitely not her father. The dark gray fluff was shot through with dark ashy streaks, and the eyes that met her golden slits were hazel.

"Sorry, Grayshadow. Is-is my father-?" She asked awkwardly. He nodded, and gestured at a faint outline in the blizzard. She was too busy and he too upset to notice that he had forgotten to be nasty to her.

"Father?" She whispered, whiskers quivering with cold. A head rose from the shadowy figure, and golden orbs like dulled suns met their match. Whitefang sobbed, and stepped to him, pressing her face into his chest. She heard a small whimper escape his throat, and a great forepaw came out of the whiteout to wrap it, and the leg attached, around his daughter.

"I'm so sorry," she breathed, tears leaking from her eyes and freezing the moment they met her cheek.

"It's alright…" Stonetail spoke softly into his daughter's ear, voice cracking.

"Papa, I know you loved-" She began, only to be shushed by her father gently.

"Don't. Not here. Not now." He meowed sadly. Whitefang buried herself in his thick pelt, feeling his warmth, and realizing this was the closest she had been to him in a long time. He had always been away, and now…he's always be there. She choked, which brought Stonetail's attention to Whitefang.

"You shouldn't be out here, not with that leg," He frowned. She glanced back to the warrior's den a little longingly, only to see a familiar pale silver tail flick away into the darkness.

"I'd rather not." She said bitterly. They sat in silence, only looking away from the body when Swanmist tore herself away from Timbermask to check up on Whitefang and join them in mourning. It was a cluster of white, silver, and gray, huddled together, joined in grief. Frozen tears glinted on would-be sodden cheeks, and night fell, leaving no light in the swirling winter wasteland.

Eventually, the temperature dropped so low it was near impossible to continue vigil. Stonetail protested, but his feeble mews were turned down by firm commands from Hollowstar to go inside, warm up, and get some sleep. Whitefang felt her way to the den, and used her nose to find her nest. She never had fixed those holes in the wall. Snow blasted its way into her face, and shivers ran up her spine. She crawled out of the moss and scented her way over to her father. As deputy and senior warrior, he slept in the center of the den. She crept into his nest only to find that Swanmist was already there beside him, and Whitefang joined happily. Soon, a warm, dark sleep set in over the warrior's den.

* * *

><p>Whitefang woke to a steady lapping at her tangled pelt. Stonetail was grooming her gently, while Swanpaw's soft snores rose and fell as easily as her flank beside her. She blinked groggily and glanced outside. The world was blanketed in thick, white drifts. She flashed back to when she went outside after a snowstorm as a kit for the first time. The world had been so big and beautiful. Swanmist had caught her tail her jaws…Whitefang was so scared, thinking it was an adder…Paledove had snapped at her, and the other three had laughed at the joke and bullied her. Swanmist had done nothing. Paledove and Blueshine had gotten so angry after she swiped at Timbermask…her parents had argued, and Swanmist and Whitefang had promised each other from then on that they would always love each other, and never hurt one another forever. Whitefang smiled. <em>The way things should be.<em> She decided. Stonetail had paused in the lapping of his daughter's pelt to spit out long white hairs into the nest and dab at his tongue with a paw. Whitefang suppressed a giggle.

" 'Morning," she mewed, rolling over. Stonetail smiled weakly at his daughter. Her heart panged. "It's gonna be okay, Pa, I promise." She sighed.

"It's so hard, Whitefang…losing someone you love." He whispered, staring off into the distance. She thought back to when her best friend had left, and the feeling she had had when she woke from that dream…and got a face full of reality.

"I know," She mewed, "But life keeps moving. And so do we."

"It's just-How can life go on so normally without her?" Stonetail asked himself angrily.

"Have the elders-" Whitefang's question was cut off by a sigh from her father.

"Yes. They buried her this morning. At dawn. She smelled like lavender," He said miserably, "And death." Whitefang made a small noise of sympathy and licked his cheek.

"You know what will do you good?" She asked. Stonetail growled.

"If it's 'forget her', I've heard far too much of it from your mo-" He began.

"She has made it perfectly clear I am not her daughter." Whitefang said sharply, the pain of reject and abandonment surging through her veins. _Imperfect…_

"I'm sorry." Stonetail murmured.

"Go out for a walk. Hunt. Do something. If you sit around, you'll feel even more useless." Whitefang snapped, temper short now that her blood was boiling hot enough to melt the snow. Stonetail took the hint and got up and out of the den quickly. Whitefang noticed that all of the warriors except for her and Swanmist had left as well.

"Good riddance," she muttered, seething. _The daughter mother never loved, the ugly kit, the plain kit, unwanted. Imperfect._

Swanmist stirred beside her. She smiled sleepily.

"Good morning," She purred to Whitefang. The she-cat glared back.

"Good, is it? It's cold and miserable and Goldenfrost is gone and Stonetail's upset and Paledove is-AGH!" She growled. Swanmist shook her head slowly.

"Calm down, okay? You still have me, and everything's gonna work out, I promise." she murmured, pressing close against the white warrior's ruffled pelt.

"Everything's so depressing now," Whitefang moaned, slumping down, anger forgotten and replaced by an overwhelming sadness. Swanmist went silent.

"You know," She says softly after a moment, "It makes me think of how he died…he was too young to go too. And it's my fault…if I hadn't-If I'd-He wouldn't have-He wouldn't have died!" She burst out, crying. Whitefang gaped at her.

"No, no! It wasn't you! Well, it sort of was," Swanmist bawled, "But it was mostly Timbermask, and he was upset anyway, and-" Swanmist's echoing sobs drowned her out.

"W-Whitefang, It's all m-m-my f-fault!" She blubbered, almost incoherently. Whitefang's heart sank.

_It isn't your fault…not completely. Let me help you…he isn't dead. He isn't dead! That's it!_

"Swanmist, can I tell you a secret?" Whitefang whispered. Her sister looked at her sadly.

"I already know about your birds, Whitefang…" She mumbled.

"No, it's something else. Something bigger. Something only me and Darkclaw know." She confided.

"What is it, then? Spit it out." Swanmist sighed, dabbing at her eyes with her paws in vain.

"Barkpaw…isn't dead." Whitefang breathed. It was a huge whoosh of relief as she released her secret, her secret that had been bubbling in her stomach, fidgety as leaping frogs.

"What?" Swanmist asked, "I don't think I heard you right…he can't be. Darkclaw said-"

"He wanted Barkpaw to disappear a hero. Not a…a coward," It killed Whitefang to say it, "He's living somewhere far away now." She finished, not truly wanting to reveal the fact that her best friend _was_ a kittypet. It shamed her as well as Darkclaw. And yet she wanted him to return. Deep down, she knew Darkclaw wanted it too.

"Truly?" Swanmist pressed.

"Honest. Swear to Starclan." Whitefang said solemnly. Swanmist still looked dubious.

"Say you promise."

"Why?"

"Because," The older sister whined like a little kit, "It means you really _mean_ it. Your promises are special, Whitefang. You _always_ keep your promises."

"Alright, then. I promise."

"Promise what?"

"I promise that Barkpaw, Son of Darkclaw, is alive."

"Good." Swanmist sighed happily.

"Satisfied?" Whitefang teased.

"Yes." Swanmist said simply. Whitefang rolled her eyes.

"C'mon. Let's go catch some breakfast." She made to get up and Swanmist pushed her back down.

"Aren't you forgetting something?" She asked.

"Like what?" Whitefang meowed crossly.

"This!" Swanmist said, pointing at the large splint on Whitefang's leg. She frowned.

"Oh, yeah. Right." She grumbled, settling back down. Swanmist nodded.

"Good. Now, before _I_ go hunt _you_ some breakfast," Whitefang muttered something under her breath as Swanmist continued, "And while we're on the topic of secret sharing, I've got one for you. Promise not to tell?" She asked, kitten-like again.

"I promise I won't tell a soul, living or dead," Whitefang smiled.

"Okay, then," Swanmist drew a deep breath, a great grin bursting into bloom on her face, "I'm pregnant."

**Babam! Pow! "Shot to the heart, and you're too late, you give loooove a bad name!" Sorry, I'm really hyped right now. After effects of last night's football game, I suppose. Don't worry, I didn't drink. The top three rows got wasted though...that's a story for another time.**

**QOTD: I randomly thought of this, but what's the worst warrior name you've ever seen in a story? I know mine...Gaysprite. Yes, it was a typo from someone who couldn't spell, but it's hideously hilarious.**

**Update soon,**

**Bright**


	27. White Feathers and Shadows

**WOW I really _did _leave y'all with a cliffhanger! Thank you so much for the reviews! Soon, I bet we'll reach 400! Cool! And I laughed at every single ridiculous name y'all told me. Honestly, some people...you wonder where they come up with this stuff. Well, clearly most are from Starkit's prophecy...Anyway, in some of your reviews, I noticed a trend. You guys seem to think Paledove's a murderer. I'll let you know now, Paledove did not murder Goldenfrost. It truly was just a terrible accident that worked to her advantage. **

"Y-You're _what_?" Whitefang spluttered.

"You heard me!" Swanmist beamed. Whitefang instinctively looked at her sister's stomach. It looked no different, still smooth, flat and taut, the peak of fitness.

"How do you know?" Whitefang asked incredulously.

"I felt them, silly!" Swanmist purred.

"Sure it wasn't just indigestion?" Whitefang mused.

"Positive," Swanmist mewed firmly, "And I…" She faltered, tears welling in her big green eyes.

"What? What is it?" Whitefang said urgently, pressing against her sister.

"I had asked Goldenfrost to check me out," She choked, "The day before…Oh, I didn't know it would be the last thing she ever did! Oh, great Starclan, Whitefang!" She sobbed. Whitefang sighed, and nuzzled Swanmist comfortingly.

"It's okay, sweet…shh, hush now…when are you going to tell him?" Whitefang asked, not daring to say Timbermask's name in fear that she would scream.

"I couldn't do it now…not now, not after what happened…it feels too wrong," Swanmist whispered.

"But the Clan could use good news! Stonetail and…_she_ would be thrilled." Whitefang felt herself bite her tongue on yet another name. Swanmist sniffed.

"Good news? You really think so?" Swanmist asked.

"Of course!" Whitefang smiled. Then, she turned her head to peer outside, and make sure no cat was overhearing. "Oh, look. It's started to snow again."

"Snow!" Swanmist shrieked, sitting up, fear in her eyes.

"Snow?" Whitefang wondered.

"Snow!" Swanmist wailed, collapsing into the moss and burying her face in it.

"What's wrong with a little snow?" Whitefang murmured gently.

"This wouldn't be good news! Everyone would just get upset again! More kits in Leafbare! A third litter to die in the cold!" Swanmist cried. Whitefang thought carefully.

"Now, that wouldn't necessarily-"

"Necessarily? Whitefang, little prey? Cold weather? Sickness? They'll be doomed!" Swanmist sobbed into her mossy pillow.

"We'll take care of them. They will survive. I'll help you, and love them so much, Swanmist. They'll be beautiful." Whitefang resisted yet another twist on her tongue. _They'll be perfect. Strong, brave father. Beautiful, talented mother. Proud grandparents. I'd be surprised if anyone even let me near such privileged kittens._ She scowled, and brushed the thoughts off immediately. _They'll be my nieces and nephews. And I'll treat them like my own._

"It'll be okay. Everything will be fine. I promise." Whitefang added those two special words and instantly Swanmist lifted her head.

"Truly?"

"Truly."

"But I'm still not telling anyone else."

"Why not?"

"I-I want it to be a surprise. I don't want to tell them right away. I want to…I don't know. Make it happier. I couldn't do it so soon after…it will feel like I'm just drawing attention to myself. Everycat knows they love to put me in the spotlight." She muttered. Whitefang felt her heart pang. How she wished they would do so to her. But this was Swanmist's moment.

"Okay." She sighed. Whitefang made a move to get up and go out, but Swanmist pressed her back into the nest.

"No. You need to rest that leg. Stay here, I'll get you something." She mewed. Whitefang frowned.

"But I-" Whitefang protested weakly.

"You'll do nothing." Swanmist insisted. And in an instant, her wintry pelt disappeared into the whirling snowflakes. Whitefang was left alone.

_She's pregnant. Pregnant. With little kittens. Timbermask's kittens. Paledove will be so proud, so happy. Stonetail will be, too. Maybe it will bring them closer together. Timbermask will love the kittens. Swanmist will be a wonderful mother. One big happy family. Where does that leave me?_ She wondered. Soon, her older sister came back into the den with a plump crow, probably the last of the season, cold but delicious. She also brought with her the medicine cat, who dressed Whitefang's leg again, and inspected the wound.

"Luckily, you heal quickly. Tell me, does it hurt to the touch?" Shyfawn inquired. Her tone was perky, but the bags under her turquoise eyes and slumped shoulders revealed otherwise. Poking the wound, still a little raw and red, Whitefang hissed with pain. Shyfawn shook her head slightly. Mumbling to herself, she pushed a few small black poppy seeds towards Whitefang, who lapped them up slowly as Shyfawn pasted a smelly, pulpy mass of herbs to the splinted foreleg. Whitefang sighed through a mouthful of seeds as the cool juices drizzled over the itchy red skin. Swanmist watched carefully. Shyfawn got up and took the rest of her remaining herbs in her jaws as she proceeded to readjust the splint. Poppy seeds affecting her brain, Whitefang's eyelids drooped, and her vision went hazy. She felt soft, white and silver paws lower her head to the floor of the nest.

"Sleep well…" Swanmist's voice faded in and out of Whitefang's perception, and soon the soft, warm scent of her sister left her. Again, she was cold and alone in the warriors' den. Darkness overcame her, and her senses faded to black.

* * *

><p>"Good morning, sleepy head." A gentle, deep voice purred. Whitefang stirred. Opening her eyes, she found herself staring into orbs of the deepest emerald, shining brilliantly. They were set in a soft brown tabby face, one which beamed at her.<p>

_No. Not another one! I won't let you get to me again, I swear on Starclan._ Whitefang growled in her head. But it was so hard…when the only thing she ever wanted was to be loved.

"What are you doing in here?" She snapped irritably, glaring at Timbermask, "This is my nest." She propped herself up on her forepaws, which she noticed were once again sleek and smooth, and unbroken. _I'm my dream self again_. She decided, _But I feel older…and heavier._ She frowned.

"What's wrong, beautiful?" Timbermask asked, curling himself around her. Whitefang stiffened at his touch, forcing herself to remember the look on his face as he lunged for her, teeth bared.

"Everything!" She hissed. The tom pulled back, startled.

"Whitefeather?" He mewed. Whitefang narrowed her eyes. _That is not my name. My name is Whitefang. I am powerful. I am strong. I am brave. I am full of promise. _

"Oh, Timbermask, calm down. It's just the hormones." A voice teased from the corner. Whitefang whipped her head around to stare at the speaker. She was elegant and white-furred, with spiraling silver markings over her pelt. Her pale green eyes gleamed in the half-light.

"What hormones?" Whitefang snapped.

"You're expecting, Whitefeather. It's perfectly normal." Swanmist said amusedly. It was then that Whitefang realized her sister had a tiny pair of kittens at her stomach, one a fluffy gray and white furball, the second solid black. She wondered vaguely who the father was. _I'm pregnant?_ She wondered, glancing at her stomach. It was bulging and swollen, as if she were a bloated tick about to pop. As she stared in disbelief, she felt the tiniest sensation. It was a faint wriggling, as if her intestines were squirming. But in…a good way?

"They're moving!" She exclaimed without thinking. Timbermask's face lit up and he bounded back toward her, Whitefang in such shock that she didn't shoo him away.

"They are!" Timbermask cheered gleefully, pressing a paw to her belly. Whitefang purred without meaning to.

"Oh, the little dears." She smiled. Then, she shook her head. _What's come over me?_ It was the strangest feeling, the warmth that emanated from the center of her chest and blossomed outwards, as if she were lit from within. And with every tiny kick in her belly, the feeling grew stronger. And then, the glow intensified as she realized, _I will do anything for you, my little ones. I will love you to the fullest extant of my heart._ She was grinning from ear to ear. So great was this feeling of love and protection that she leaned into Timbermask and let his scent fill her lungs. Even the name Whitefeather didn't seem so hideous. In fact, it was sort of pretty.

"I love you. I love our kits." She sighed happily. Timbermask chuckled and licked her cheek.

"And I love you, beautiful. The kittens will be just like you. So…amazing." He murmured. Suddenly, the pleasant kicks became more intense. It seemed as if the kitten were trying to tear themselves from her stomach. Whitefang let out a little gasp. The pain grew larger, and the muscles of her belly rippled as contractions flowed through her, choppy and violent as waves of a stormy sea. She heard Swanmist hurry over, and Timbermask dash out of the nursery. An insistent voice filled her head.

"Push! Push! Breathe! Push! Push! Breathe!" Whitefang whimpered from strain. Soon, the pain lessened and she heard Swanmist let out an excited squeal. But the tightness continued I her gut until what seemed like eternities later. Her eyes were closed and sweat beaded on her skin, soaking the sensitive parts of her body. The fur between her shoulder blades, neck, and flanks were soaked with perspiration. Eventually, Timbermask's voice pierced through the fog in her senses.

"Open your eyes, sweet. Look at them." He whispered, "They're perfect." Whitefang's eyes fluttered open at the word. Her claws had unsheathed, but her mate hadn't noticed. As soon as she set eyes on her children, though, all pain went away. They _were _perfect. There were four tiny bundles lying beside her in the mossy nest. Two toms, two she-kits. The bigger tom was a handsome pale brown tabby like his father, but with white paws and a round white belly slowly swelling with milk from where he suckled. Beside him was his brother, a creamy tabby tom. His sister beside him was identical, besides the white splash on her muzzle. The final kitten, a delicate little she-kit, was white with brown tabby splotches. Whitefang loved every single one of them. Timbermask gazed adoringly at them, and lovingly at her.

"I'm just so proud of you!" He gushed.

"What should we name them?" Whitefang asked softly, as not to disturb the precious angels.

"Well, I've been thinking…and maybe Creekkit for the cream tom?" He offered. Whitefang nodded, smiling.

"Perfect." The word rolled off her tongue.

"How about Spalshkit for the cream she-kit?"

"Yes. And Tumblekit for the other tom." She said fondly, watching her son trip over himself on his way back to the teat. She nosed him gently in the right direction, and he rolled over himself in anticipation.

"I love it," Timbermask agreed, "You name the last one, darling."

"Petalkit." Whitefang decided sleepily, resisting the urge to close her eyes.

"You're tired. Close your eyes." Timbermask admonished gently.

"No. If I do, you'll disappear…" Whitefang yawned.

"I'll always be with you, sweet one. Close your eyes." He murmured.

"No…I….won't…" She said slowly, words slurring.

"Close your eyes." Timbermask commanded.

"My kittens…" Whitefang whispered, taking a final half-closed look at her beautiful kittens that she'd never see again. The world went black and devoid of scent once again.

* * *

><p>Whitefang opened her eyes, expecting feel the shivery cold and see the flurry of fresh snow blowing outside the warriors' den where she lay, crippled. Instead, she found herself in a land of shadows. She glanced at herself, wondering if this would be another torturously wonderful dream. <em>No. I am still the same Whitefang, matted, tangled pelt, large paws, crumpled whiskers. But I clearly am not awake.<em> The place she was in was cloaked in shades of black and gray and green, though still slightly discernable. Through the shadow, she could tell hazily that she was in Shadowclan territory. A buffeting wind pierced her fur, and chilled her very bones. And soon, blurry, shady snowflakes began to fall. The ground was covered, and for some reason, Whitefang felt the need to press forward, wading through the snow. She moved on, gusts pushing her back so hard she had to squint to see vague outlines. Soon, a high-pitched scream echoed through the forest. Whitefang recognized the scream. She surged forward, desperately trying to reach the sound of the scream so eerily familiar, yet so different. She soon smelt blood. It bathed her paws.

Then, she was on the edge of the shadowy territory, looking over to glittering, sparkling water. The outlines of everything were undefined, and the colors melded together, as if determined to keep her location a secret. Whitefang felt pelts press around her, choking her, and the scream came again, shorter, and more final. Once again, through the shadows and haze, blood seeped through her thick white pelt, staining it crimson, she heard faint whispers, unmistakably words, and felt fury flood her heart.

The scene changed, she was stalking the shadowy forest floor. It was a forest, she decided, because foggy spots of what must be sunlight dappled the ground. Her claws were unsheathed. A strong voice came out from behind the trees, along with a shape, huge and cloaked in ever changing grays, and she felt the hate bubble within her. The hate soon changed to warmth, and the scene soon changed to shadowy oranges and golds, leaves' obscured forms crossing her vision, though they were certainly leaves. The shape grew closer, and she grew excited. The warmth spread from the tips of her ears to her toes, and her fur quivered with anticipation.

She was lying in a warm, dark space that smelled of milk. Small, round shadows squirmed at her belly. Fear and guilt welled in her heart, and poured from her eyes as tears. She rose, and fled the space, out into the open, where the only thing in the dim, fuzzy world that was sharp and crystal clear were the stars. She followed them through the shifting darkness, and heard the babbling of a brook. The light of the tiny diamonds in the sky dimmed until they seemed eons away. Her vision went dark. She felt herself falling, falling, and then almost flying.

* * *

><p>Gasping for breath, Whitefang woke. She felt the loss of her kittens that could never truly be hers as a mother would after the death of a child. She felt the cold emptiness that Timbermask's love had emptied from. And, strangely, she remembered the sensation of falling and flying simultaneously. She felt as if she were missing something, as if there had been more to her dreams, but her mind was blank. The snow falling outside had slowed to a mere trickle of flakes. The sky, still gray, ad darkened with the approaching evening. Whitefang scowled. Never before had she spent a day sleeping. as she dropped her head onto her paws with a heavy sigh, Whitefang noticed how sharp and clear the colors and lines of the den were. <em>How strange, <em>She mused, _That I would notice such a thing._ _It must be there boredom._ She decided, waiting patiently for her family to come in, and unknowingly mock her by telling her the events of the day.

**I can't really explain this one without explaining too much and yeah..so I'm not even going to ask a question of the day. You guys just say whatever comes to mind, I guess. Even if it's "wow you suck I'm so confused now, bitch" or "Nice" I appreciate the feedback! Am working on next chapter now...**

**Update soon!**

**-Bright**

**And if you have any questions about any of the chapters or things, feel free to ask.**


	28. AN IMPORTANT

**Hey guys, Brighteyes here. I know some of y'all have read my story The Great Divide, and I know I haven't updated it for almost exactly three months. **

**It's just that...I don't know, guys, I'm not feeling that style or maybe it's parts of the plot line, but I got to thinking, and I'm going to rewrite it. Like...all of it. **

**Of course, I'll keep some of the better bits and the plot line base, but right now it feels a bit dry and tasteless. It needs some pizazz! **

**So, the rewrite will be under the same story title but with some great new stuff I've come up with while lying in the dark with a blanket over my head, cat by my side, and notebook and pen in my hands. Crazy night. **

**Anyway, I'll give you a little taste of what's to come...I hope you're not angry with me for this not being a "real" update on Promise or Warrior's Couple's Counseling. I swear to whatever God you believe in that I'm working on the next chapter of each right now. With Promise, I will answer every single one of your questions in the next AN and with WCC Mapleshade and Silverstream will have their paws full with this couple...in more ays than expected. Jayfeather will be making an appearance. **

**So...presenting the new, improved, REWRITE SNEAK PEEK:**

Thunder roared and lightning blazed, yet no rain poured from the ominous clouds. The six Clans were gathered beneath Fourtrees at midnight. There was no full moon to be seen, and no stars glimmered in the stormy, inky darkness that enveloped the glade. Ripplestar gazed up at the other leaders situated on the Great Rock with malice clear in her dark amber gaze. Behind her, her clanmates gathered with bristled pelts and malevolent expressions, evidently poised to attack upon their leader's command.

"Mutiny!" Ravenstar snarled from his throne-like seat at the topmost point of the stone. His shadow cast the Clan before him into further blackness, from which only their eyes gleamed.

"That is why you have called us here, Ravenstar?" Ripplestar hissed impatiently beneath the gray tom. Ravenstar leaned forward, the charcoal streaks in his pelt enhanced with stripey shadows, causing him to take on the menacing stature of his namesake.

"You know very well why we've called you here to gather when it isn't the full moon," The icy voice of Echostar sounded from behind her fellow. The glowing she-cat cast a withering look at Ripplestar, and padded up to the tip of the Great Rock, where Ravenstar stepped back to admit the she-cat to the front. "You have committed treason. We reserve the right to punish you for crimes against Starclan and their noble code of the Clans." Echostar announced. Her long, silver pelt shone in the illuminating flashes of lightning, giving her the appearance of a spirit or ghost. Cats below shivered in her presence. Ripplestar maintained her expression, adding a sneer of contempt.

"You have no right! Moonclan has done no wrong." Ripplestar growled.

"No wrong? No _wrong_?" A loud voice jeered. From beside Ravenstar, cloaked in shadow, emerged a figure. It was wiry and slender, but its muscles were clearly defined beneath its thin and ragged pelt. Its muzzle was coated in gray, ears shredded, and whiskers askew. One eye was clouded over and slitted, with four long claw scars crossing it. The fur on that side of the cat's face was gone, and on the other side it was shedding in large tawny clumps. It's second eye was sharp and clear, a hard, cold topaz gleaming brilliantly from the mangled face. Almost every cat flinched back as this leader took Echostar's place. It opened it's mouth to speak, revealing rotting, jagged yellow teeth and a tongue split in half with a score of claw marks hanging from the once-broken, grizzled muzzle.

"You say no wrong, no harm Moonclan has done to this forest, Ripplestar. You say, you say!" It cackled; the voice was clacking and clattering and cracking, as a crow's beak would sound, with the l's and s's slippery, slithery and nearly unrecognizable as the tattered tongue darted between gray gums.

"And I speak truth, Badgerstar." Ripplestar called up defiantly.

"Truth, even truth would be lies off of your tongue!" Badgerstar's voice wasn't even a voice, it was a choking, hacking, hissing sound that formed words, "Tried in vain to seize the territories, you have! Succeed you did not. You killed...how many dare I name? You killed Dawnstar, and Seedstar. You killed Fallenpetal, Stoneshade, Creekleg, Fadedmist, Embersky, Fleetrunner, and Goldenpaw, Greenpaw, Jumppaw, Larkpaw, and we shall not even go into queens and kits! You consorted with those of dark nature, and those stained with blood for eternities." The old tom clacked.

"In the name of the greater good!For the best interests of Moonclan!" Ripplestar screamed to the leaders.

"In the name of all the Clans, you have disgraced yourselves! Everything should be in the interest of all six! Great Starclan, you fool!" A fiery red-pelted she-cat yowled from the rock, causing the elderly tom to step back on his twisted limbs to give her the speaking point.

"Your very being shames the entire history of the Clans, Ripplestar! Mutiny! Treason! Treachery and betrayal, by any name are still the same. No cat can change the past, Ripplestar, and you have left permanent red on our ledger that will take centuries of season cycles to fade! And you of all cats should know, Ripplestar, the past never fades." The flame-furred leader's fierce blue gaze bore into the black and silver tabby below.

"Russetstar," Ripplestar began cooly, only to bare her teeth, "I regret _nothing_." She hissed.

"Then, on your head, so be it." The final leader, an enormous white tom who stood regally off to the side, announced, his booming, deep voice ricocheting in the glade like the thunder overhead.

"Rue the day, Ripplestar, when you crossed the line. For the last time." Echostar said, and, with an air of finality, she turned, tail swooping as she melted into the shadows.

"Even Starclan no longer watches you, Ripplestar. I hope you're proud." Russetstar snarled, stalking off into the darkness behind Echostar.

"Your body is whole, yet your spirit broke with every life you took. Suffering, Ripplestar, I condemn you to." Badgerstar meowed. He, however, did not move from his seat on the cold stone.

"Owlstar, may I be so honored as to carry out the sentence?" Ravenstar asked, voice silkily smooth and coated with malicious glee.

"Ripplestar, for crimes committed against Starclan, the Code, and the Six Clans, we sentence you to death, and Moonclan to exile. From this ,night forth and forevermore, there will be only fives Clans in the forest." Owlstar rumbled. He followed Echostar and Russetstar away from the point of the Great Rock. Now, only Ravenstar and Badgerstar remained situated upon the gargantuan boulder. Ripplestar glared insolently from the base, emerald filled with wrath. Her clanmates watched her fearfully. The whispers began amongst the ranks.

"Death?"

"Exile?"

"We'll have no leader,"

"No leader, no home, what will we do?"

"Where will we go?"

"There's no other place for us than the forest!"

"The kittens can't walk to a new territory, they're too young,"

"How will we survive?"

"It's nearly Leafbare, snow will be here soon,"

"Ripplestar, please step forward." Ravenstar called, making his way carefully down the craggy face. The silver and black tabby leader took three stiff steps toward the tom, whose yellow eye glinted in the flashes of purple-white light.

"I renounce, in the name of Starclan and the Code and the remaining Clans, your leadership status. Ripple, you are hear-by condemned to death." Ravenstar grinned in the darkness, baring his pearly fangs. Without another word, he slashed the throat of the she-cat before him. Ripple fell to the ground, choking and twitching for three long seconds before she went still. Ravenstar shook his forepaw, splattering tiny spots of blood onto the forest floor. They fell, staining the dry, crackling leaves crimson, as did the small pol of blood at the neck of the fallen she-cat. Ravenstar began to leave the clearing, and spoke in his passing of the body.

"Rot in hell." He spat at the motionless form of Ripple. Ravenstar vanished into the night, as the previous three had, leading away his Clan, Skyclan. Riverclan had left the glade following Echostar, and Shadowclan and Thunderclan had exited with Owlstar and Russetstar, respectively.

Now, only Badgerstar remained in the glade. He had sent Windclan home with Russetstar, so his clanmates needn't witness the execution of the criminal. He closed his remaining eyes and tilted his ragged head toward the starless heavens. What had been seen could never be unseen. He sent a silent prayer to Starclan that they watch over the five Clans of the forest, and that Ripple be sent to where she deserved. Opening his eye, Badgerstar regarded the Moonclan cats. He limped down the rock on his gnarled, twisted limbs and stared at the Moonclan cats. They cowered in the darkness, leaderless and afraid.

"Leave us your young, your sick and your old. They are no use to you, and will not survive the journey," He croaked, "You will travel long and hard and far, and the lives of yours will not be easy. There...there will be a time. A time when your leader will face one of the hardest moments in history.

_The one they love, they'll lose,_

_gaining something even more cherished in the end._

_Their cats will be torn within their hearts and thoughts, these wounds not to be healed overtime._

_ Bodies will break, blood will be spilled, there is no turning back._

_The clan will broken,_

_something they cannot stop,_

_loyalties split_

_in __**the Great Divide**__._" Badgerstar whispered in his mangled meow. A kit watched the old leader carefully.

"Darkkit, what're you thinking about?" The tom beside her asked sharply.

"Nothing, Pa..." The dark-silver she-cat said slowly. She felt as though these words held greater meaning than she would know for a long, long time.

"Nothing at all..."


	29. You're Drooling

**I figured the life of Whitefang could use a little fun this chapter. As for your questions:**

**Amberstorm233: When Whitefangs brain is full of jumbled emotions, it sort of does turn her dreams into a parallel universe just to torment her.**

**Silky Kiwi: You love hate Timbermask because of his potential and his reality...how that happens, though, is my little secret ingredient ;)**

**Catqstar: Feel free to use Brighteyes in your story!**

**Cinderfire16: 1. Whitefang's emotions sort themselves out in her dreams, to ease and torment her heart. In a way, it's her mind's way of trying to organize her life, when it really just confuses her more. 2/3/4. They are the parallel universe her emotions create. 5. The last dream, the one she can't truly remember, is actually very prphetic. Keep that in mind ;)**

**Ryuuka: It's my job as an author to make you think :) and by think, I mean get confused until that AHA! moment**

**BraveWolfScourge: Whitefang's love life shall remain a mystery...until, of course, when it isn't**

**Cupcaketail of Windclan: No, she was not in the Dark Forest. It was more a prophetic dream, foreshadowing events to come.**

**And now...let the story continue**

* * *

><p>"Aw, please, come on! I'm her apprentice! Or, was, anyway." Whitefang protested, standing outside the nursery in the thick drifts of newly fallen snow. Shyfawn shook her head firmly.<p>

"For what must be the hundredth time, _no_, Whitefang! A new mother needs her rest!" The black and orange tortie frowned.

"You let Icegaze in!" Whitefang argued stubbornly, stomping her forepaw on the icy ground, "OW!"

"He's the father! And what have I told you about being careful with that leg?" Shyfawn groaned.

"Sorry," Whitefang muttered, "But being stuck in camp for an entire _moon_ with nothing new to see gets dull."

"You think I don't know that?" Shyfawn asked.

"I know you _do_ so you'll let me see the kittens," Whitefang pointed out, grinning. Shyfawn sighed with defeat.

"Fine. But be quiet and respectful." The medicine cat reminded the warrior as Whitefang pushed her way inside.

"You think I'm not?" She called over her shoulder.

"I wasn't kitted yesterday, Whitefang. I know you!" Shyfawn mewed, a bemused expression on her face as she padded away. Whitefang chuckled as she made her way into the dark, warm nursery. But something pulled at her tail before she made it through the entrance.

"Not going to see them without me, are you?" Swanmist teased, squeezing into the tight gap next to her sister.

"Not anymore!" Whitefang smiled, continuing into the den. Swanmist followed excitedly. Pausing after making her way in, Whitefang blinked a few times to get used to the darkness. The only faint light that came through the densely woven walls of the nursery was from the entrance, where the winter wonderland of the outside world seemed blinding in comparison. Whitefang swept her golden gaze about the cave-like space. In one corner, dozing peacefully, was Mothwhisker, her dusty brown belly bulging. _Won't be soon 'til she'll be kitting too. _Beside her in the center, however, was a sight for sore eyes. Waterfall lay in her nest, emerald eyes half closed, watching three fuzzy lumps at her belly squirm and wriggle. A sleepy smile was evident on her muzzle.

"Hey, Waterfall," Whitefang whispered, carefully padding toward her former mentor. The white warrior was glad Icegaze wasn't in, or she would be pierced with disdainful daggers shot from his silver gaze. She shivered at the thought. The gray queen looked up at Whitefang and beamed.

"Isn't that sweet, you coming to visit me!" She purred softly.

"Well, when you're confined to camp life for three moons, Waterfall, something like a kitting is hard to miss," Whitefang giggled. Swanmist rolled her eyes.

"Even when you _aren't_ confined to camp, Whitefang, new kits are a wonderful distraction!" She corrected. Leaning over the mossy nest, Whitefang ignored her sister and sniffed daintily at the little ones.

"Aw, they're adorable!" She squealed, "What did you name them?"

"Shh! Why do you have to be so loud?" Swanmist admonished. Waterfall laughed lightly.

"They're heavy sleepers, Swanmist, don't worry. I bet they'd even be able to sleep through Featherfall's snoring!" The gray queen joked, "But we agreed on the perfect names,"

Waterfall said to Whitefang, "They are: Fadingkit for the smaller she-kit," She said, touching her nose gently to a pale gray kitten. Her muzzle was black, and as you moved your gaze to her full face, it lightened in shades of gray. Same was for the black points on her paws and tail.

"Beautiful," Whitefang breathed.

"Shiverkit for the second she-kit," The berry-pink nose of the next kitten twitched as her mother said her name. Her pelt was pale gray, almost white; it looked as if some cat had dipped their paw's pads in snow and pressed them all over her pelt, making bright white leopard-like spots, like snowfall on ice.

"Lovely," Swanmist murmured.

"And finally, Stormkit for my little tom!" Waterfall mewed affectionately, giving her only son a lick on the head. He mewled in protest, causing the young warriors to giggle. He was the same gray as his mother, with one white ear. His paws were enormous.

"He'll be a big warrior, won't he!" Whitefang exclaimed, taking in the size of his paws.

"Yes, maybe bigger than you!" Swanmist joked. It was no joke, though, that the white and silver she-cat's younger sister was one of the largest warriors in Shadowclan. She dwarfed the she-cats and matched many toms in their size and ferocity.

"One can only hope." Whitefang shot back. Waterfall sighed at their antics and rested her head on her paws. Whitefang glanced at her and took the hint.

"We'll leave you to rest now, Waterfall." She mewed quickly, turning to the exit so as not to exhaust her former mentor further.

"Sweet dreams!" Swanmist purred softly, following her sister out of the nursery.

Once the two young warriors had returned to the snow-coated clearing, Whitefang turned to her sister.

"Those kits are adorable! I want one as my apprentice!" Whitefang grinned, tail waving excitedly. Swanmist glanced around camp to make sure no cat was around before she replied:

"You sure you wouldn't prefer one of mine?"

"Well, I don't know…Timbermask would probably be even _crueler _if I was chosen to mentor one of his kittens." Whitefang spat bitterly.

"Oh, I'll see to it that he changes his mind!" Swanmist meowed confidently, "Hey wanna go out hunting?"

"Sure!" Whitefang mewed eagerly, praying that her sister wouldn't remember her leg…

"Oh, wait. You have two more moons to go, Whitefang. I'll go find Duckflight," Swanmist said, glancing down at her sister's splinted foreleg.

"Fox dung. I was hoping you'd forget." The warrior grumbled.

"A little hard to forget when you're so busy trying to hide it!" Swanmist laughs, gesturing to where Whitefang was busy trying to unwrap her thick tail from around her leg.

"Oh, shut up. You wouldn't like it if you were confined!" Whitefang growled, wrestling with her tail. Half of it had gotten caught in the tight splint.

"Haha, look a you!" Swanmist giggled, flopping onto the ground. Once she hits the snow, the light crust that had formed overnight cracked, sending the pretty she-cat a foot down into powder.

"Who's laughing now, Ice-face?" Whitefang grinned, wrenching her fluffy tail free and laughing wildly at her sister, who was now struggling to remove herself from the snowy hole.

"A little help?" Swanmist grunted, scrabbling at crust that was fast collapsing around her, widening her predicament.

"Nah, I think I'm good." Whitefang snickered, leaning back against a drift. A high-pitched giggle sounded behind the crippled white warrior.

"Oh, look! Dinner and a show!" Cherrypaw mewed through her mouthful of squirrel.

"It's not funny!" Swanmist hissed, thrashing.

"Did you catch that? In _Leafbare_?" Whitefang asked in awe, looking at the plump squirrel in her young friend's jaws.

"Pttoo!" Cherrypaw spat the rodent out onto the ground and dabbed at her tongue to rid it of hairs, "Yep! We found a nest of them! Wanna share?"

"Sure," Whitefang purred, tearing her eyes away from Swanmist to lean down and take a large mouthful of the squirrel, "And, remember," Whitefang meowed through the juicy meat, "To take one over to the nursery. Waterfall's gonna be needing some with those extra mouths to feed!" Cherrypaw lept into the air.

"Waterfall kitted?" She shrieked.

"Oh, yeah. You were out. Two she-kits and a tom." Whitefang said, swallowing.

"Starclan! Are they cute? What're their names? I'm gonna go see them right now!" Cherrypaw squealed, dashing to the prey pile, snatching a squirrel, and racing over to the nursery, where a crowd of clanmates had already gathered, back from patrols for the evening.

"So…" Whitefang said through another bite of prey, "How you doin' in there, Swanmist?"

"Shut up, you big ol' badger!" Swanmist snapped.

"Whatever. Tell me when to call in a rescue." Whitefang smirked.

"Fine! Help me out!" Swanmist growled grudgingly, resting her head on her tired forepaws in the now-packed powder.

"What's the magic word?" Whitefang mewed in a sing-song voice.

"Please," Swanmist sighed. Whitefang got to her paws slowly and sauntered over to her sister, grabbing her firmly by the scruff and giving a mighty tug. The slender white and silver swirled warrior popped out of the hole in a burst of snow. Whitefang set her down gently.

"Thanks." Swanmist said, shaking out her sleek pelt.

"Anything for the magic word," Whitefang winked, "Want some squirrel?"

"Don't mind if I do," Swanmist smiled thankfully, leaning down to snap up a quick piece.

"Go on, eat more than that. You are preggers, after all." Whitefang purred jovially, though her heart felt a though it were being clawed out. _Will I ever have kittens? What tom would want me?_ She wondered. Swanmist's sharp voice brought her back.

"Not so loud! I told you, it's a _secret_!" Swanmist hissed, cuffing her sister over the ear.

"Hey! Not so rough on the cripple, 'kay?" Whitefang tried to joke around with her sister, ignoring the pain in her chest.

"Sorry, it's just that…it's getting even colder and I'm starting to get worried." Swanmist murmured, giving her chest fur a few embarrassed licks.

"You'll be fine. They'll be fine. We'll all be fine." Whitefang soothed. _Must be the hormones too…_She decided. _Swanmist's never usually this jumpy_.

"Thanks, Whitefang. I'm gonna go out and clear my head, okay?" Swanmist mewed, rising.

"Alright. I'll just sit here and finish this delicious squirrel alone." Whitefang shrugged, trying not to feel abandoned. 'I'm gonna go out and clear my head,' seemed to be Swanmist's catchphrase these days. _How much clearing can one head take?_ Whitefang wondered, chewing on a particularly touch piece of squirrel as she watched her sister leave camp.

"Hey, is this seat taken?" A deep, unmistakably male voice sounded above her. Whitefang looked up. To her surprise, Bouncestrike was standing over her.

"Uh…no?" Whitefang mumbled around her food. The black tom nodded, satisfied, and plopped down beside her.

"So…umm…want some squirrel?" Whitefang asked cautiously. The older warrior nodded his thanks at her offer, but politely declined.

"So, uh, you seen the kits yet?" He asked awkwardly, shifting his paws. Whitefang scrutinized him.

"Oh, uh, right…you're in camp all day…" The tom muttered, "Well, this is awkward."

"No kidding." Whitefang said, watching him.

"Well, Whitefang…" Bouncestrike sighed, "I'm sorry my siblings are such jerks to you. And my mom. They're…I don't know. But you don't seem that bad, I guess. Not bad at all, really. I don't get the hype," Bouncestrike stumbled around his words, seemingly unnerved by the younger warrior's emotionless stare.

"Thanks, Bouncestrike. But honestly, why are you talking to me? It's not like _I_ have a fan club." Whitefang mewed, straightforward. So straightforward, in fact, that her honesty seemed to throw the tom even more off.

"You're, uh, friends with Cherrypaw, right?" Bouncestrike asked, shuffling his paws again.

"Yeah. Her ceremony is in two moons. When I can get my stupid splint off again." Whitefang said, taking another bite of squirrel, yet not redirecting her gaze anywhere other than Bouncestrike's face.

"Yeah, so…do you…can you…doyouknowifCherrypawlikesme'causeIreallylikeher?" His words flood from his mouth like a hurried, babbling brook.

"Ummm what?" Whitefang asked. Bouncestrike took a deep breath, and met her intense golden gaze with his amber stare for the first time.

"Do you know if Cherrypaw likes me? 'Cause I really like her and I _really _need to know!" He said in one giant breath, gasping at the end like a fish gulping for air.

"Like you?" Whitefang blinked, "_Like_ you? She loves you, Bouncestrike; it's actually pretty crazy. Just…wait 'til she's a warrior, 'kay?"

"Wow! Really?" Bouncestrike beamed.

"Yep. Can I finish my food now?" Whitefang asked impatiently

"Thanks so much Whitefang! Great Starclan, thank you!" Bouncestrike purred, giving her a sloppy lick on the cheek before bobbing happily away through the crowd of cats gathering near the freshkill pile.

"Um?" Whitefang's jaws hung open as she stared dimly after the black warrior. _What in Starclan's name just happened? _Cherrypaw came bounding up to her a moment later.

"Why do you look like you just got whapped over the head with a tree branch?" The tortie apprentice asked, bemused.

"Uh…." Whitefang blubbered.

"Whitefang? You're drooling. And it's getting all over my half of the squirrel." Cherrypaw frowned, "What happened? Someone lick you or something?"

**Ah, what happens when you realize you may not be as underappreciated as you are led to believe.**

**QOTD: Do you guys like the kittens? And...given the lovey-doveyness of Bounce and Cherry, what are your ships?**

**Thanks so much for your support on The Great Divide rewrite! Chapter 1 in progress!**

**-Bright**


	30. Ruby Pawprints on Snow Covered Mounds

**I don't have much to say about this chapter, actually. Just keep in mind...reader discretion advised. This is rated T for a reason.**

Whitefang watched carefully as Shyfawn delicately took apart the wooden splint on her foreleg. The removal was the only piece of good news she'd had in moons. First came green-cough, taking one of Hollowstar's lives and the life of Smokefang. His former apprentice, Bouncestrike, took that loss harder than the others. Honeypaw and Blizzardpaw still lay ill in the medicine cat den, both Hollowstar and Featherfall worrying day and night as the supply of catmint dwindled to a mere few scrawny leaves. Whitefang comforted Cherrypaw everyday.

Then came the deep freeze, where temperatures dropped so suddenly and severely in one night that it spurred Mothwhisker into labor a moon early. Two kits, one stillborn, the other lasting a day before joining its sibling in the stars. Mothwhisker still refused to be moved out of the nursery, and busied herself day to day by helping Waterfall care for her own little ones; by night, she lay in her nest, curling around the space where her own kits should lay beside her. Prey supply had dropped profusely in the freeze,and almost everycat went hungry, giving their little food to Waterfall and the sick apprentices. Even the elders gave up their meager portions. Whitefang had felt so miserable that she was unable to contribute that she hadn't eat anything more than the tiniest shrew Swanmist forced down her throat in a week. The only light that had shone through in this frozen world had been the warrior ceremony yesterday, but even that had been painful, as two would-be warriors lay sick.

Cherrypaw became Cherrynose, and Bouncestrike had cheered her name the loudest of all, causing her to puff up further with pride. Sparrowpaw became Sparrowtail, white tail tip waving with excitement. Doepaw had become Doestep, a beautiful spitting image of her mother, dappled pale brown pelt with glowing copper eyes. And, even when they were unable to attend their own ceremony, Blizzardpaw and Honeypaw became Blizzardpelt and Honeygaze. Their names were beautiful.

Now, as he foreleg felt the true chill of the air for the first time, Whitefang stood and stretched, unhindered. She smiled slightly, and nodded thanks to Shyfawn. The poor medicine cat had taken the bad news of the past two moons worst of all. Her shoulders were stooped, her tail low, and eyes dull. Whitefang felt for her, and prayed to Starclan that they let one of Waterfall's kits be a medicine cat apprentice. Whitefang tore her gaze from the older she-cat and made her way outside, promising herself she would not sleep tonight until she had caught enough prey to feed the Clan. Of course, she'd need some help. She hurried over to where her father stood in the center of camp, fur bushed out against the cold, organizing patrols.

"Stonetail! Papa!" She called, dashing up to him. A smile lit up his face as he saw his daughter without her splint.

"You look healthy," He purred, licking her cheek gently. She grinned.

"Can I lead a hunting patrol, father? Please?" She asked, "I haven't been able to do anything in moons! And we need the prey, Papa!" She insisted. He laughed.

"Alright, alright, you can go. Take whoever you want, child, I'm a little busy at the moment." He said.

"Thank you!" Whitefang breathed excitedly, "I want Cherrynose, Grayshadow, Duckflight, Swanmist and Sparrowtail!" She called out, watching their eyes light up as they were chosen. She had decided on a team of the best hunters for today. As they padded up to her, Whitefang frowned.

"Where's Swanmist?" She asked. Three shrugged, while Duckflight replied:

"I heard her say to Timbermask earlier she needed to take a walk to clear her head." The dark ginger warrior meowed. Whitefang nodded.

"Okay. We'll head out then, just the five of us." She said, turning toward the exit. The patrol followed suit.

Less than ten minutes into the patrol, and Whitefang had already missed three pounces. She was unused to such activity. Luckily, her clanmates had managed to catch two of her failures before they disappeared into the white world. Whitefang shook it off. _I'll catch the next one. I have to prove myself._ She insisted silently. Already, Duckflight was carrying a skinny chipmunk and Quietdream held two half-frozen frogs. It was more than what was lying on the freshkill pile.

Whitefang scented the air carefully, pushing her nose to fight through the sterile smell of ice and snow. Finally, she found something. A bushy-tailed red squirrel. And even better! She thought gleefully, it was fighting a gray squirrel for a meager collection of nuts on the ground. One must have dropped them.

She dropped low, signaling for another to do the same. Soon, she felt Grayshadow's presence beside her. She figured it was out of desperation that the tom and Quietdream had stooped to join her patrol. They both crept forward carefully, eyes glued to their targets like pinesap on kitfur. Whitefang watched every move of the red squirrel critically. It seemed to be far bigger and healthier than the little gray, who, she decided, must've dropped the nuts. It seemed far more desperate to get them back. In some ways, she felt for the little gray squirrel. In others, she realized the health of her Clan was far more important. It reminded her of Sunspot and Russettuft, who, Swanmist had informed her, left their hollow a while ago in search of someplace warmer. Whitefang pushed her worries for her feathered friends aside, and refocused on her potential catch.

At that precise moment, the red squirrel had its back turned to both Whitefang and the gray squirrel. The gray squirrel made a lunge for the fallen nuts, catching the red off guard. Whitefang pounced, and felt Grayshadow do the same. Her landing wasn't quite neat: she fell on top of the red squirrel, but with a swift nip to the neck, it was dead. Grayshadow stood opposite to her, gray squirrel hanging limply in his jaws. He nodded slightly, and turned back to the patrol. Whitefang took the prey in her mouth and proudly made her way over to the others. _I can still bring it._ She thought, smirking as she passed Quietdream. The she-cat glared at her, and scowled at her scrawny half-frozen frogs. Cherrynose stifled a giggle.

The patrol continued, getting luckier as time went on. Soon, all of them were carrying at least three pieces, and Whitefang gazed at them proudly. _This will feed so many empty bellies!_ And that was when she heard the sound. A long, plaintive wail echoing through the forest. And it spiked something in her memory. _I-I've heard this sound before!_ She began to run, racing through the forest, dodging frozen limbs and thorny brush. The wails became louder, and Whitefang more desperate as the memory tugged at the back of her mind. _Where do I know this from? Why can't I remember?_ She thought. Racing on, she tripped over stray roots poking through the slippery frozen crust of the snow, chilling gusts of wind blasting her off her paws. Soon, the scent of blood filled her nose and made her eyes water. _Oh, no..._

Swanmist lay on the ground, eyes wide and scared. She lay in a small pool of blood around her hind legs, and it stained her pale pelt crimson. She took a step forward, and blood lapped at her paws. Her vision blurred through the falling snowflakes...

_And soon, blurry, shady snowflakes began to fall. The ground was covered, and for some reason, Whitefang felt the need to press forward, wading through the snow. She moved on, gusts pushing her back so hard she had to squint to see vague outlines. Soon, a high-pitched scream echoed through the forest. Whitefang recognized the scream. She surged forward, desperately trying to reach the sound of the scream so eerily familiar, yet so different. She soon smelt blood. It bathed her paws._ Whitefang gasped as it flooded back to her, and gazed fearfully at her sister. _The dream..._

"What happened to you?" Whitefang gasped, dropping down to her sister.

"I-I-" Swanmist stammered, voice thin and quivering, "I don't know, Whitefang...I was walking, and my stomach...it hurt so badly, Whitefang." She whispered softly, eyes welling with tears, "Whitefang...I buried them."

"Buried? Who-? What? Swanmist!" Whitefang mewed confused, staring at the blood and her sister's distressed face.

"Whitefang, I had too...I don't know what happened, Whitefang, but they were so small..." Swanmist's voice was low and strained, eyes staring at three lumps of snow, spotted with pale ruby patches. Patches in the shape of pawprints. Whitefang's eyes widened.

"No!' She whispered. Swanmist nodded.

"Three, Whitefang. They were so small, so innocent...and they just lay there. I tried to make them breathe, to move, but they weren't ready. I don't know why...Whitefang, why does Starclan hate me?" She howled, pressing her face to the snow. Whitefang dashed to her side, and nuzzled her sister's shoulder.

"No cat could ever hate you, Swanmist. Sometimes...sometimes, bad things things happen for no reason." Whitefang murmured.

"They're all dead...gone...I-I wish I were dead..." Swanmist whimpered.

"Swanmist, shh, everything will be alright..." Whitefang mewed gently, a lone tear leaking from her bright golden eyes.

"Whitefa-What happened? Great Starclan, there's so much blood!" Duckflight's voice caused both she-cat's to jump up slightly. The patrol was standing there in the glade, staring frightfully at the two warriors. Whitefang watched carefully as Quietdream's pale green gaze flicked from the two she-cats to the small lumps of snow covered in bloody pawprints. The white and gray patched she-cat dropped her prey instantly and hurried to Swanmist's side. She meowed softly, knowingly,

"You've lost a lot of blood...can you stand?"

Swanmist tried to lift herself to her paws and did so shakily, only to fall to the ground as her legs gave out. Both Whitefang and Quietdream reach to grab Swanmist's scruff. The older warrior looked strangely at Whitefang before backing off and allowing the white warrior to lift Swanmist up, where Quietdream leaned in to support the weak she-cat. Duckflight leaned down to pick up their catches from earlier, and the wary and weary procession made their way slowly back to camp.

As they staggered through the camp entrance, many cats converged on them at once. Timbermask yowled something about getting the medicine cat, and PAledove and Stonetail swarmed Swanmist, Stonetail checking up on his exhausted but whole younger daughter as well. Hollowstar shooed the others away as family took care of family, and it all just happened in a confusing haze to Whitefang. She felt her paws carry her to the medicine cat den, where Shyfawn gave the diagnoses: Miscarriage.

Swanmist sobbed with grief, while Whitefang stood still, eyes glazed over with exhaustion and sorrow. Timbermask said something to Swanmist, tears in his emerald green gaze. Paledove glared at her alienated daughter as if it were all Whitefang's fault, and Stonetail wrapped his thick gray tail protectively around Whitefang. She barely noticed. All three of the others were watching Swanmist howl into the moss with a strange mix of confusion and torment on their faces. Finally, Shyfawn pushed Paledove and Stonetail from the overcrowded den. Timbermask had proudly refused, preferring to stay by his mate's side. Whitefang sat still in shock, watching, unseeingly, as Shyfawn offered her poppy seeds. SWanmist continued to cry. Only did the fog in Whitefang's mind break when Timbermask approached her. She shrank back into her pelt.

"Thank you. For saving her." His voice echoed in her mind. Whitefang opened her jaws to reply, but no sound came out. Timbermask's dark, hollow gaze met her empty golden one.

"I'm not saying I like you, Plainkit. You will never mean anything more to me than the little you do now. But...thank you. Swanmist and I owe you her life." He meowed, not even bothering glare at her, as he padded out of the den, tail dragging on the ground. Whitefang processed his words blankly, and closed her eyes.

_This will be an interesting night..._She thought dully before falling asleep.

**Hope you found this chapter thought provoking.**

**QOTD: Thoughts on Timbermask? Thoughts on Swanmist?**

**I do hope y'all checked out the Great Divide rewrite, chapter one is up and I'm pretty proud of it compared to the first version!**

**See y'all next time, **

**-Bright**


	31. The Current Stays the Same

**I know, guys. I'm sorry, but I had to do it. It was essential to the plot.**

Whitefang opened her eyes, and found herself sitting beside Timbermask. _Oh, no…not here, not again. Why must you torment me, Starclan? _ She wanted to bury her face in her paws and cry. It was all too much. The life she'd never have, her sister, her nieces and nephews she'd never get to meet. And yet…_Timbermask thanked me._ Whitefang thought. _Maybe, just maybe, that will be some resolution. Yes. Yes, it is. He loves Swanmist, and Swanmist loves him. He doesn't hate me. I don't think I can ever forgive him…but I can move on._ She opened her eyes, and she was still sitting beside Timbermask.

But, on his other side, Swanmist sat, stately and beautiful. Whitefang glanced down at herself. Her fur was gnarly and tangled; her paws were large and clumsy. She sighed with relief. _It's all over. Whitefeather's life is gone from me._ She thought. Timbermask glanced at Whitefang, and his look was not of disgust, but neutral. She never seen such an expression. When the tom turned to Swanmist, however, his emerald gaze lit up. Whitefang, instead of feeling resentful, felt delighted. Swanmist's eyes shone as well. Whitefang wondered why they were sitting out in the center of camp. Then, Hollowstar's voice echoed through the clearing.

"Shadowclan, it has been a cold Newleaf, but, now, Greenleaf is upon us! The season of renewal! To greet this coming warmth, we thank Starclan by providing them new apprentices in return. Whitefang noticed Swanmist and Timbermask swell with pride. Three small cats lined up at the base of Hollowstar's speaking stone. One was a handsome pale brown tabby tom just like his father, but with his mother's eyes. Beside him sat two she-cats, his sisters. One of the two was a dark brown tabby, with glowing emerald orbs like her father's. In truth, she was her grandfather with her father's eyes. The second she-cat was a clone of Swanmist, with all of her mother's elegance and grace, beauty that was undeniable, and that playful light in her eyes spoke true to her character. Whitefang felt herself beam with pride as well. _I am your aunt! You lived!_ She thought elatedly.

As Hollowstar announced their names and mentors, Whitefang listened, impatient and hopeful. The tom, Barkpaw, Whitefang felt tears well up in her eyes at his name, was apprenticed to Bouncestrike. Whitefang was disappointed, but she knew the black-pelted warrior would treat him well. He was Barkpaw's uncle, after all. Whitefang noticed that Bouncestrike sat beside Cherrynose, whose stomach was pleasantly swollen with the promise of new kits. The next of the three, her name was Thistlepaw, was given to Duckflight. The dark ginger she-cat bounced over to touch noses with the excited 'paw. Whitefang's shoulders drooped. There was only one last paw to be given away. She hoped desperately to Starclan that it would be her.

And it was. Whitefang was given Streampaw, the carbon copy of her beloved sister, as an apprentice. She straightened up as she padded up to the small she-cat, whose face betrayed her delight.

"Auntie Whitefang! You're my mentor!" Streampaw squealed happily as Whitefang bent to touch her nose to the berry pink one of her niece. She chuckled softly.

"Don't think that means I'll go easy on you!" Whitefang admonished lightly as the Clan cheered the apprentices' names. Streampaw grinned.

"I want you to train me just like your stories, and the way Addershriek trained you!" Streampaw mewed eagerly. Whitefang shook her head.

"We'll start off like Waterfall. Addershriek's training style was intense. We will save that for later!" Whitefang winked. Streampaw bounced a little in excitement.

"Oh, I can't wait!" She squeaked, "D'you think my warrior name will be good? I think I want to be named Streamfang. That way I'll be just like you, Whitefang!" She smiled, looking up at her aunt. Whitefang looked down at the apprentice lovingly.

"Thank you, little one. Whaddaya say we go out and look around the territory, now, hmm? There's plenty of time to think about your warrior name!" She purred. Streampaw nodded enthusiastically, and followed Whitefang to the camp exit. Whitefang was practically glowing with happiness. _Swanmist's kits lived! I have an apprentice, and she is my niece!_ But a solid wall of fur blocked her exit. It was Addershriek.

"What are you doing? I'm giving my apprentice a tour of the territory!" Whitefang exclaimed. Addershriek's hazel eyes were blank.

"Wake up." He meowed.

"Never! This is _my_ life, the way it should be! This isn't Whitefeather's life! This isn't some sick fantasy! This is how it _should have been_." Whitefang growled, trying to push her way past her former mentor.

"What're you talking about, Auntie?" Streampaw asked.

"You must wake up." Addershriek rumbled.

"No." Whitefang hissed icily.

"Auntie!" Streampaw mewed frantically.

"This is not your life to live." Addershriek said, voice empty and emotionless, "There is a different path set for you."

"Paths are not set in stone!" Whitefang argued, "I could stay here forever! You cannot stop me!"

"Whitefang!" Streampaw whimpered, nuzzling the warrior's foreleg.

"Toss a pebble in a river, the current stays the same." Addershriek meowed, "This is not the destiny of Shadowclan. These kits have never lived. These kits will never live. Your time is limited. There are choices to be made. Wake up. You must wake up."

"No! I refuse!" Whitefang wailed, backing away. Addershriek stepped towards her, soulless eyes boring into her own.

"Whitefang!" Streampaw whispered, "Please don't leave. What's going on? I'm alive, I swear!"

"This is not your story." Addershriek said.

"My story is unwritten!" Whitefang snarled. Streampaw cowered behind her mentor.

"You must return."

"Never!"

"There are choices to be made, but the outcome is the same. There is very little time for you."

"Stop it!"

"The choices are made. The outcome is the same. No time…no time…"

"I determine my own fate!"

"Toss a pebble in a river, the current stays the same. No time…No time…"

"Leave me alone!"

"No time…no time… the choices are yours to make, but one remains the same. Wake up…wake up…"

"Never!"

"Wake up…wake up…No time…No time…"

Addershriek's mighty paws crash over Whitefang's head, and she crumpled to the ground. The last thing she heard was her niece's piercing scream.

"Whitefang!" A voice summoned her from the darkness, but she did not open her eyes. _Please, let me stay…_ She thought.

"Will she be all right?" The voice came again. Whitefang knew she had awoken, but refused to face the world. _Streampaw…Thistlepaw…Barkpaw…all dead, gone, never seen the sun._

"It takes time. Both she and Swanmist are in shock." A new voice entered the void, concerned, but sharper and higher than the other. It was cracking. Clearly, this voice had witnessed much suffering.

_All three, gone…dead…_

"But Swanmist is eating, she is drinking. Whitefang is still asleep!" The first voice came again, fearful.

"These things take time. I assure you, Stonetail, both of your daughters will return to normal."

_Stonetail…father…grandkits gone…daughters broken…_

"Please, Shyfawn, is there anything I can do? Please, anything!" Stonetail insisted. Whitefang felt his tail on her spine. The warmth was comforting. She was sure that Timbermask was with Swanmist as well. Addershriek's voice returned to her, as did the voices of the kits she would never meet…

"_There are choices to be made, but the outcome is the same. There is very little time for you."_

"_D'you think my warrior name will be good? I think I want to be named Streamfang. That way I'll be just like you, Whitefang!"_

"_Toss a pebble in a river, the current stays the same. No time…No time…"_

"_What're you talking about, Auntie?"_

"_No time…no time… the choices are yours to make, but one remains the same. Wake up…wake up…"_

_It was all just a dream. I am home. Streampaw, Thistlepaw, Barkpaw…they were never named. Those personalities never existed. They never formed a thought, much less a word. It was all just a dream. I am going to be okay. _

Whitefang opened her eyes. Soft light was filtering through the entrance to the medicine cat den. It was dusk. The glare of midday sun of snow was gone, and in its place the white of the outside world was dim and dull, a gray the same as the skies. Patches of starlight leaked through from the moonless sky and danced over the darkening clearing. Whitefang lifted her head slowly and looked about the den. Swanmist lay sleeping beside Timbermask in the corner, where the tom shot her a dark look from where he stayed. The thanks were gone. Timbermask hadn't changed at all. Whitefang took small comfort in that. Shyfawn was sitting, back turned, sorting small black-blue berries and black seeds into piles. The sharp scents of the herbs woke Whitefang's senses. Stonetail sat quietly beside Whitefang's nest, Tail draped over his daughter's back.

" 'Evening." Whitefang mewed. It was more of a croak: her throat was dry and crackly. Stonetail turned to her quickly.

"Whitefang!" He purred softly, as not to wake Swanmist.

"Water?" The warrior suggested, giving his daughter a soaked ball of moss. She lapped at it greedily.

She managed a quick "Thank you" in between licks.

"Oh, love, I'm so happy you woke up!" Stonetail smiled gently. There was pain in his eyes, obvious pain, and Whitefang felt her heart pang. He hadn't known Swanmist was expecting until they had come home bearing the news of the deaths, she realized.

"How long have I been sleeping?" She asked.

"A day." He meowed, watching his daughter's face carefully.

"An entire day?" She exclaimed.

"Don't worry, sweet, we managed without you." Stonetail said amusedly.

"Did the patrol-" Whitefang began, but Stonetail nodded, and cut her off.

"Yes, they brought back your prey. Though Quietdream was quick to pass your kills off as her own. Luckily Duckflight burst her boating quickly." Stonetail chuckled. Whitefang scowled.

"I save my sister, and they still treat me like an outcast?" She growled.

"Whitefang…" Stonetail mewed carefully, "You know how they are. They are stuck in their ways. They are stuck her lies. You of all cats should know we don't change our ways easily." Whitefang huffed and looked away. She hated the ungrateful feeling bubbling in her stomach. She hated it because it shouldn't be there. She _should_ be welcomed into the Clan, treated as a hero, or at _least_ as an equal. Instead, she felt as alone and lost as a kit.

"How's Swanmist?" She choked out through the tightness of her throat. _I won't cry. I will not._

"She's been better, love. Losing kits is hard, especially for such a young cat. I don't understand…why would she keep it a secret from us?" Stonetail wondered, looking at Whitefang pleadingly.

"She wanted it to be a surprise. She didn't want the Clan to have to worry about her in Leafbare. With all the sickness, and hunger…she just wanted to make the load less heavy." Whitefang explained. Looking back, she realized it was stupid. They should've known. Maybe if Swanmist had been cared for, the kits would still be here. This, she realized again, must be exactly what's running rampant through Swanmist's head. She groaned, _The unfairness of it all!_ and buried her face in the moss of her nest. Stonetail, sensing Whitefang wanted to be left alone, leaned down and gave the white warrior a soft lick between her ears.

"I'll see you tomorrow, sweet." He murmured, "I love you." Whitefang heard his paw steps fade as he padded out of the den.

When she woke the next morning, Whitefang was famished. Dawn's early light, a soft grayish-lavender, greeted her golden gaze. Swanmist was still asleep, but Timbermask had left. Out on patrol, no doubt. Whitefang stood. She knew she shouldn't be taking up valuable room in the medicine cat's den, not when there were two terribly ill apprentices and a grieving queen to take care of. _I am Whitefang. I am strong. I will be okay. _She decided, stepping outside into the cold, white world. Her knees buckled under the stares of her clanmates. She kept her chin high, and made her way over to her father, who stood in the center of camp, arranging patrols as usual.

Whitefang returned from her border patrol full of energy and life, as if she had been revived. The crisp, fresh Leafbare air flooding through her lungs, the crackle and snap of crusted snow beneath her paws, and the scampering of mice across that same frozen surface. It filled her with a sense of being she hadn't felt in a long time. Too long, she had been cooped up in the medicine cat den, or warrior's den, with the stale, warm air and dim light. Now, out in the bright wide world, Whitefang felt alive. She padded through camp happily, taking a small vole off the pile and finishing it in three gulps. She bounced about gleefully, looking for some way to spend her newfound energy. And she found exactly what she was looking for. Waterfall emerged from the nursery, her eyes dull and pelt matted. Her kits followed behind her, complaining loudly.

"But Mama! I'm _bored_." Fadingkit squeaked, padding after her mother. The kitten's pelt, with its shades of gray, and its black points at her paws, tail and muzzle, looked striking in the bright midday sunshine that streamed through the thick gray clouds. Her sister and brother trudged behind her, both whining as well. The trio was two moons old now, and quite the pawful. Waterfall and Mothwhisker _together_ couldn't keep them out of trouble. Whitefang's eyes lit up at the sight of them. She hurried up to her former mentor excitedly.

"Waterfall! Waterfall!" She called. The gray she-cat lifted her head, and managed a smile as Whitefang approached her.

"Hello, Whitefang. What's the matter?" She asked, picking through the meager supply of prey.

"Well, you look pretty tired. I figured you could use a break, you know, from the kits. I could play with them. Take them off your paws for a little bit." She offered hopefully. Waterfall smiled.

"That sounds delightful. Mothwhisker is off on a walk with Dawnstrike, first time out of the nursery in forever, the poor dear. I haven't slept in two nights! Thank you, Whitefang." She purred.

"No problem! Hey, you three, wanna play fox hunt?" Whitefang asked, squatting down low.

"Sure!" Shiverkit squeaked happily.

"Yeah, yeah!" Stormkit grinned.

"I call being patrol leader!" Fadingkit mewed bossily.

"I'm a fox! Rawr!" Whitefang play-growled, faking a swat at Stormkit. Large and sturdy, the gray tom dropped low into a lopsided crouch, one white ear twitching. He fell over his own enormous paws as he lept at Whitefang. The other two kits darted at the warrior, pouncing on her, and bringing her down with a thud. Whitefang laughed, and snapped playfully at their little paws as they clambered over her pelt. Shiverkit clung to Whitefang like burr, tiny claws pricking through the warrior's thick pelt like thorns. Whitefang rolled over, careful not to crush any kits.

It was then that she noticed the pair of dull, pale green eyes watching sullenly from the den across the clearing.

**And so...**

**QOTD: Thoughts about today's dream world?**

**Update whenever I can escape my schoolwork!**

**-Bright**


	32. All That Matters

**Hello, all! **

**Foreststar of Windclan- You wanted me to explain her last dreamscape? Well, it's rather prophetic, _and_ a glimpse at what could have been. The only reason it was different, without her being Whitefeather, as she told Addershriek (who was merely a body through which Starclan could send their warning) was because she gained some sort of closure. She realized Swanmist and Timbermask truly do love each other, and he will never love her. This is why she will no longer dream of being with Timbermask. I do not have the liberty to explain Addershriek's warning, however. You must figure that out for yourself.**

* * *

><p>Whitefang had thrown herself back into working as hard as possible ever since Swanmist had lost her kits. She had gone on every single possible patrol, often bringing back the most prey or marking the most borders. Those who knew her watched, knowing that she was trying as hard as she could to push the dark memories away, and focus on living. The others had decided she was capitalizing on her sister's absence, and was trying to outdo Swanmist. Her life was far busier, and lonelier, than ever before.<p>

Swanmist refused to come out of the medicine cat den. It was quiet and lonely now, seeing as Blizzardpelt and Honeygaze were cleared of sickness and released to their warrior duties. Swanmist ate, and drank, only because Timbermask practically forced them down her throat in fear that she would kill herself out of grief otherwise. She barely moved from her nest, and instead stared blankly at the wall of the den. On her darkest days, those when the emptiness in her stomach became too much to bear, she would howl her pain to Starclan, as if her children would somehow hear their mother's plaintive cries and return.

Whitefang visited infrequently, but did so as much as her busy schedule would allow. Just sitting in the medicine cat's den with her sister, Timbermask glowering at her, as if daring her to speak, made her feel depressed. Her visits, needless to say, were short. Swanmist, gaze dull and nearly lifeless, would lie limply, occasionally emitting small whines. Whitefang couldn't bear the sadness that emanated from her sister. Timbermask spent every possible moment with his mate, never leaving her side unless called away urgently. He refused to let any cat other than Swanmist's family, and them ever so reluctantly, sit with the warrior in her den. Even Shyfawn was required to stay a safe distance away while Swanmist 'healed'. The medicine cat argued daily with Timbermask, saying the seclusion he was submitting Swanmist to was unhealthy, and the only way she would ever get better was if she could interact normally with her clanmates. The tom proudly rebuffed the she-cat. Whitefang hated him for it. Stonetail, far busier than even Whitefang with the duties of a deputy, could barely make time to visit his broken daughter. Paledove, however, spent as much time as she could with Swanmist. Whitefang didn't know what her mother said, but whenever she went in to visit after the silver warrior had left, she entered to find the mood seemingly darker and heavier than before. Whitefang hated her for it.

Whitefang, with her loathing for her mother and her sister's mate stronger than before, took any opportunity to avoid them, making the rest of the Clan decide she was bitter, manipulative, and power hungry. When Whitefang made time to eat, or even speak with a friend, there were few to choose from. Duckflight, Cherrynose, and Bouncestrike were her companions, with the scarce older warriors who didn't despise her company. The rest kept their distance, glowing eyes all seeing, ever watching, and forever wary.

It had gone on like this for two moons, now. Two more, and the Clan would have three new apprentices, the first in a long time. No new kits were expected, which clearly worried the Clan. What would become of Shadowclan if they had no new blood? Those were the whispers. Mothwhisker desperately wanted another try, another chance to have the kits that were never hers, taken by Starclan. Dawnstrike was far too afraid of letting his mate suffer another heart wrenching loss. Yet, the cold of Leafbare was coming to a close, with new buds blooming into life on the tips of branches, and tiny flowers and blades of grass blossoming into being through the slushy patches left on the ground. Rains had come and gone, carrying with them the promise of new life. This promise came first in the form of a miracle.

* * *

><p>"Whitefang!" An excited voice called from the other side of camp. Whitefang, who had just come back from a hunting patrol, was setting her day's catch down on the freshkill pile. Warm sunlight streamed through budding ranches and danced over her white pelt.<p>

"Cherrynose!" She purred, voice warm and welcoming as Newleaf sunshine, "What is it?"

"Oh, Whitefang, you won't believe it!" Cherrynose beamed. Bouncestrike padded up behind her.

"What won't Whitefang believe?" He teased, nuzzling the she-cat's cheek. Whitefang smiled, biting her tongue to keep frown screaming. More and more, lately, had she begun to feel like a third wheel. A broken wheel which dragged the entire cart down to a shuddering halt. She kept it to herself.

"Well, out with it then!" She exclaimed.

"I'm pregnant!" Cherrynose squealed. Both Whitefang and Bouncestrike's jaws dropped so low, the white warrior swore she could feel the dirt of the clearing brush her chin.

"You're _what_?" They shrieked at the same time. Cherrynose looked from one to the other, and burst out laughing.

"Priceless!" She wheezed happily once she had caught her breath again.

"Darling, this I wonderful!" Bouncestrike purred, sounding like a monster rumbling full speed down the thunderpath.

"This is terrific!" Whitefang agreed, squashing down her jealously. She was happy for the two of them, truly. She felt a pang of worry, though. Nowadays, whenever she thought pregnant, she couldn't help but worry…

"Promise you'll be careful?" She mewed, trying to put emphasis into her voice without having to say…but it worked, and Cherrynose's eyes darkened slightly with recognition.

"I will. I want only the best for my little angels!" She said firmly. Bouncestrike nodding, springing up and down like his name.

"Oh, I can't wait!" He grinned gleefully. Whitefang nodded. She couldn't help but remember when she had played with Waterfall's kits, and seen her sister watching…Timbermask had been out, away, not guarding the fragile she-cat from the world, for which Whitefang was grateful. But the look in her eyes…was longing. Longing to touch, to smell, to bask in the light of what could have been. Whitefang knew Shyfawn was right. The more Swanmist was kept away from the light of life, the more she'd sink into the darkness she held within. And Timbermask had just left on patrol.

"Tell me, are they kicking yet?" She asked suddenly, turning to Cherrynose. The she-cat, startled out of her name-game conversation with her mate, blinked thrice.

"Um, yes? Why?" She wondered. Whitefang merely grinned.

"Come on! You forgot to tell a certain someone the good news!" She meowed, dashing off to the medicine cat's den, Cherrynose in tow. Bouncestrike followed confusedly.

"But Whitefang, Timbermask says-" Cherrynose mewed nervously. Whitefang rolled her eyes.

"Oh, Timbermask wouldn't know good from bad if it stood in front of his and yowled." She hissed, the face of her hated one searing her mind. To think she ever liked him. "Let's go in."

Whitefang burst through the entrance boldly, Cherrynose and Bouncestrike following cautiously behind. Swanmist was in her nest as always, staring at the wall, an untouched shrew in front of her, along with a dripping ball of moss. The she-cat heaved a great sigh, and a lone tear trickled down her cheek. Whitefang felt Cherrynose shrink back. Swanmist was a sight. Skin and bones, her once beautiful fur now clumped with mats and dirt. Her eyes, once full of glimmering life, were dull and dark. Whitefang pressed against Cherrynose reassuringly.

"It's still Swanmist, Cherrynose." She whispered. The she-cat gulped and nodded, eyes glistening.

"I-I never thought…"She stammered. Whitefang nodded.

"I know." The pair padded slowly up the emerald nest in which the broken queen lay.

"Swanmist, look. I brought someone to see you. Someone you haven't seen in a long time." Whitefang meowed gently. Swanmist's ear twitched, but otherwise she remained still.

"Say hello." Whitefang whispered.

"Hello, Swanmist. It's Cherrynose. Guess what? I've got some exciting news!" The tortie said, loosening up enough to smile at her mate, who twined his tail with hers. Whitefang's stomach twisted painfully. But, this new voice had caused some stir in Swanmist. The she-cat lifted her head, and turned to look at Cherrynose and Bouncestrike. Her eyes were no longer lifeless; there was a lone spark of curiosity.

"News?" She croaked. Her voice, gone unused for so long, was thin and wavering as a shivering, quivering golden-brown leaf that clung to a twig in Leaffall.

"Yes. I'm expecting kits with Bouncestrike!" Cherrynose gushed, unable to contain her excitement. To Whitefang's shock, a whisper of a smile flitted across her sister's muzzle.

"Kits," She rasped, voice wavering like that desolate leaf, "Wonderful news."

"Yes, it is. Shyfawn thinks there will be two, maybe three." Cherrynose beamed, "Would-would you like to feel them, Swanmist?" The emaciated she-cat nodded ever so slightly. Cherrynose lifted a paw so Swanmist's slender silver and white paw could rest lightly on her swollen belly. Whitefang watched intently. Suddenly, Cherrynose giggled.

"Oop! There's one! Little devils," She purred adoringly. Swanmist smiled. Another little paw kicked out.

"Oh! Another." Swanmist whispered excitedly. Her face relaxed, wistful.

"I remember…It feels wonderful, doesn't it? Knowing they're there." She sighed.

"Yes…" Cherrynose agreed cautiously, watching the other warrior carefully. Swanmist was lost in a blissful trance, one between the lines of sadness and joy. Then, she turned to Whitefang.

"Those three kits…Waterfall's. Could…could I see them?" She asked softly. Whitefang smiled.

"Of course!" She exclaimed. Swanmist made to get up out her nest. Her legs buckled underneath her, but the she-cat was determined to stand. Whitefang helped her walk to the entrance of the den. Swanmist squinted painfully as the sunlight hit her delicate green eyes, but she smiled.

"This feels so good, Whitefang." She murmured. They padded slowly to the center of camp, where their clanmates turn to stare at them, shocked. Swanmist nodded gently to all of them, while Whitefang did her best not to snarl into each of their faces. She led Swanmist over to the nursery. In front, Waterfall and Mothwhisker were sharing a squirrel. Fadingkit, Shiverkit, and Stormkit played in the sunshine, tossing about two blue jay feathers elatedly. Swanmist watched them, mouth twisting into a sad sort of smile. Whitefang's heart twisted the same way. She had figured it would be best not to tell Swanmist of her dream. It still haunted her.

"Hello," Swanmist mewed softly. The kits looked up at her. Cherrynose had distracted the queens by sharing her news. The three were oblivious to Whitefang, Swanmist, and the kittens.

"You're Swanmist." Fadingkit squeaked. Swanmist nodded. Her face was pleasant enough, but her eyes were full of pain. Her kits should be with her. Whitefang felt as if she had to pull her sister away.

"You're sad," Shiverkit mewed quietly, "Why?" Stormkit shot his sister a look. Clearly, he knew why Swanmist was so upset. He turned back to the silver and white warrior, clover-green eyes understanding.

"We can help." He meowed, "Want to play with us, Swanmist?"

The warrior seemed taken aback by the young tom's kindness.

"Why, yes," She replied, "Yes. I would like that very much, Stormkit." Whitefang watched proudly as Swanmist commenced batting at the feathers with the kittens, who squealed with delight as the she-cat tickled and wrestled with them over the floating blue plumes. She sat and gazed at the four smiling faces, knowing that Shyfawn was right. The best way to heal was to move along.

"What are you doing out of the den?" Timbermask yowled. Swanmist glanced up at her mate, and she rolled her eyes playfully, turning back to the kits. Whitefang almost laughed out loud. Her sister was back.

"Swanmist!" Timbermask growled. But then he stopped. His mate was laughing, smiling. She was _happy_ and _responsive_ for the first time in two moons. He stood, dumbstruck in the center of camp. Whitefang looked at him and smirked.

"Looks like you didn't know what was best, this time." She meowed cockily. Her eyes were narrowed with dislike. It was _he_ who has slowed her sister's progress. Timbermask snarled, but Whitefang didn't care.

Swanmist was back.

And that was all that mattered.

**QOTD: If you were Swanmist how would you get over the loss of your children?**

**I will answer any questions/comments you have next chapter, seeing as the review stream had died down. Come on, y'all! Let's make it to 465! Most thoughtful reviewer might even get their OC in the gathering next chapter ;)**

**Update bientôt en Octobre!**

**-Bright**


	33. Mud Fights

Swanmist returned to the warrior's den that night. Whitefang couldn't believe the dramatic change that interacting with kits had brought out in her sister. Swanmist was eating better and drinking more, and she had shared tongues with Whitefang before getting to bed. Whitefang watched carefully as Swanmist's fragile figure lowered itself into her nest. She also watched as Timbermask joined her; lapping at the warrior's pelt with long, slow, loving strokes of his rough tongue. Nearby, Cherrynose's long, throbbing purr rang out as she and Bouncestrike bedded down for the night. Whitefang narrowed her golden eyes and covered her ears with her paws. _Can't any cat get some sleep around here?_ She grunted, closing her eyes. The sounds still seeped through her paws and into her ears, while images of happy couples danced before her eyes. She squeezed them shut tighter.

_Why me? Am I doomed to never be loved?_ Whitefang wondered miserably. She peeked through one squinted golden eye. More warriors were entering the den and settling down, now. She saw her parents pad in. Stonetail glanced coldly at Paledove, who met his gaze defiantly. As he turned his back on her, though, the she-cat's crystal blue gaze darkened and her shoulders slumped with defeat. Whitefang suppressed a smirk. _That's what you deserve. Suffer my fate._ _My fate…_As she fell deeper into thought, Addershriek's words echoed through the vast expanse of her mind. _"There are choices to be made, but the outcome is the same. There is very little time for you. Toss a pebble in a river, but the current stays the same. No time… The choices are yours to make…"_ She closed her eyes again. Addershriek's empty face invaded what she had thought to be her only sanctuary, her thoughts…_What do you mean? Why me? Am I truly destined to be alone? _Addershriek's face blurred, and morphed into Timbermask's, with Swanmist's beaming visage beside him. Whitefang groaned. Soon, Whitefeather's face found its way into the array of happiness, of torment.

Round of face, with smooth, shining white fur, her large golden eyes shone, fringed with feather-like white lashes. Her nose was small, cute, and berry-pink, matching the velvety insides of her ears. Her whiskers were long, and they arced elegantly, as did her sleek, slender, snow-colored tail. Her ears were even and perfectly shaped. Whitefang automatically shrank in her pelt. _I am not you. _She screamed silently at Whitefeather. Surprisingly, the she-cat opened her mouth to reply. And Whitefang's own voice came out of the frosted muzzle.

"_You are not me."_

_I know I'm not you. _Whitefang replied bitterly in her mind. Whitefeather shook her head.

"_I am not you."_

_I know!_

"_You must follow your own path."_

_You've made that plenty clear._

"_You face heartbreaks and tragedies I will never know."_

_Clearly. You can stop rubbing it in now. I know…_She gulped, _I know I'm not perfect. I will never be perfect. Leave me alone!_

"_Though our lives are different, one thing remains the same."_

_Yeah? Tell me. _

"_There is little time for us."_

_Time for what? Starclan, tell me! Why am I always in the dark?_

"_Let love light your path, and guide you through the darkness."_

_I don't need love. I am not worthy of love. I am alone._

"_Toss a pebble in a river…"_

_The current stays the same. What does that have to do with me? I am Shadowclan, born and raised! I hunt the forests, I do not swim the rivers. I walk the shadows, alone. Leave me be!_ Whitefang snarled. A score of claw marks appeared across Whitefeather's beautiful face. It dissipated like mist.

"Whitefang, Whitefang wake up. What's wrong, Whitefang?" A paw was prodding her side. She opened her eyes, sore from being held, shut tight, for so long. _Was I asleep?_

"You were snarling in your sleep. Whitefang, did you have a bad dream? Are you okay?" A pair of wide, shimmering blue eyes met her own golden orbs.

"Duckflight? I'm fine." Whitefang muttered, rolling over, turning her back to the dark ginger warrior.

"You don't sound fine." Her friend mewed fretfully.

"Go back to sleep." Whitefang snapped.

"Whitefang…it's past dawn." Duckflight said.

"What?!" The white warrior shrieked, leaping up.

"Yeah, Swanmist was wondering if you were going to get up and have breakfast with her. She said you had told her you would yesterday. So I came in and…you sounded so frightened." Duckflight said softly. Whitefang refused to meet her worried gaze.

"I'm fine. Tell Swanmist I'll be out in a moment." She meowed brusquely. Hearing the swift pawsteps head out of the den, Whitefang let out her breath with a large 'whoosh'. Her shoulders slumped, and her eyelids drooped. _I feel like I didn't get a moment's sleep last night._ She put on a brave face, squared her shoulders, and padded out of the warriors den. Newleaf sunshine greeted her, and the bright rays burned her eyes. She quickly found Swanmist amongst the jumble of pelts gathered, and the sea of cats as she made her way over to where her sister sat. She avoided the sharp, watchful eyes of her clanmates. Swanmist frowned as Whitefang reached her.

"Ignore them, Whitefang. They're nothing but a bunch of small-minded, arrogant, ignorant little-"

"Swanmist, stop it." Whitefang interrupted the silver and white warrior's potential tirade abruptly, "Can we just eat? I've got a patrol to go on at sunhigh." The lie slipped easily from between her gritted teeth. More than anything, Whitefang wanted to walk in the forest and lose herself among the leaves. Her sister's protectiveness no longer reassured her, like when they were kits. Instead, it irked her. _I don't need you to look out for me. I'm fine by myself. _

"Okay," Swanmist mewed, looking at her sister carefully before taking a large bite of her finch and chewing slowly. Whitefang glanced at the piece of prey Swanmist had fetched for her. Just from looking at it, she could tell it was a clumsy kill. Patches of feathers were missing from the wings of the young raven, and one of its eyes had been gouged out. A leg was twisted awkwardly, and there were scores of claw marks down its back. Swanmist swallowed loudly and coughed as a stray feather caught in her throat on the way down.

"Sorry. It didn't look as bad when I first saw it on the top…" She muttered awkwardly, "Want me to get another one?"

"No, its fine." Whitefang sighed. _Don't be so petty. Food is food._ She admonished herself silently. Leaning down, she sniffed it. Something…something wasn't quite right. She sniffed again. And again just to be sure. _Yes. _She was right. The bird smelled of them unmistakably. Whitefang bared her teeth ad growled. Swanmist looked at her bemusedly.

"Aw, come on. It isn't _that_ ugly!" She chuckled.

"No! Smell this, Swanmist." Whitefang urged, pushing the mangled raven toward her sister. Swanmist leaned over and sniffed it delicately. She frowned.

"Is it just me, or does that smell like-"

"Riverclan." Whitefang confirmed. Swanmist nodded. Standing up, she looked about camp.

"Who caught this raven?" She called, gesturing with her tail to the ugly fowl.

"I did, why?" Kestrelwind answered from nearby the apprentice's den.

"Where did you catch it?" Swanmist asked.

"Around the toadstool-covered cedar. The one with near the patch of lilies shaped like a clover." Kestrelwind meowed, confused, "What's wrong with it?"

"That's not far from the Riverclan border." Whitefang murmured softly.

"But far enough to be serious trespassing." Swanmist agreed, "No reason. Thanks Kestrelwind."

"No problem." The dappled cinnamon warrior said after looking at them strangely, turning away.

"Should we go?" Whitefang asked. Swanmist looked at her slyly.

"I thought you had a patrol to go on," She mewed, voice smooth.

"Come on, Swanmist." Whitefang rolled her eyes, turning toward the camp entrance, "You should know even _I_ don't plan that far in advance!" Swanmist laughed, and Whitefang took off through the tunnel, Swanmist chasing after her.

The two raced through the forest, laughing and kicking up as much dirt and leaves into the other's face as possible. Whitefang spat out a clump of nettles Swanmist had thrust back into her face. She put on a burst of speed and whipped in front of her sister, making sure that when they raced through a puddle to soak Swanmist's muzzle thoroughly.

As they stopped to catch their breath, Swanmist snuck a mischievous look toward her sister, and scooped up a muddy pawful of slush from beneath the alder tree. Hurling at Whitefang, she raced off through the budding underbrush, laughing. Whitefang blinked twice, clearing the dirt specks and grit from her golden eyes. Swiping a paw down her face, she held it in front of her as she violently shook the sloppy spring-melt from her white pelt. Swanmist's glowing pale green eyes shone from the branches of a nearby tree. Whitefang mock growled, and launched herself up onto a thick bough of the neighboring oak.

"I'm gonna get you!" She called out gleefully, leaping from the oak to alder clumsily. _Whitefang, you aren't a squirrel! Pay more caution!_ She thought as she inched her way along the slender limb. Swanmist's airy giggle sounded from the tree to her left, and Whitefang just caught a glimpse of her sister's snow-colored silver-patterned pelt slipping between the dark ashen branches. Whitefang jumped, more careful this time to land on a sturdier branch. Swanmist, however, had already made her way three trees ahead. _Curse her smallness!_ Whitefang thought amusedly before taking off after her sister.

Soon, the two were back on the ground, hurling wads of moldy, sodden moss at each other, reeking of damp and toadstools. Whitefang chucked a clump at Swanmist and hit her square on the flank, leaving a muddy, globular shape and chunks of mushroom clinging to the warrior's pelt. Swanmist lept up in shock.

"Hey! I'm gonna get you for that!" She shrieked gleefully, tossing another dank mossball and missing. Whitefang bent over with laughter.

"Come on! You can to better than tha-" She crowed, only to find her mouth jammed with a wad of slimy pine needles. Swanmist cheered from where she cowered behind a great cedar tree. Whitefang spat the disgusting needles out at her sister rapid-fire. They all smacked against the tree with a satisfying _'Shlawp'. _Whitefang scowled, seeing as none hit the intended target. Bending down to retrieve ammunition, She came across a scattering of feathers. They were wet, mangled, and stank of something rancid. _Perfect!_ She thought with a grin. As she leaned over to snatch them up, the stench invaded her nose, and she gagged.

"Swanmist!" She coughed. The silver and white she-cat peered out playfully from behind her tree.

"What? I'm not falling for any roguish tricks of yours, Whitefang! I smell bad enough!" She called out, ducking back.

"Trust me, Swanmist, this smells worse than any toadstool." Whitefang meowed ominously. Swanmist didn't budge.

"Then I won't be the one to be hit with it!" She squeaked.

"Swanmist, game over." Whitefang snapped.

"What could possibly smell so terrible you'd win?" Swanmist teased, clearly thinking her sister was joking.

"Riverclan." Whitefang snarled.

* * *

><p>Whitefang and Swanmist had given their evidence to Hollowstar. The dark tortoiseshell tom was properly infuriated. He had announced to the Clan his plans for confronting Riverclan at the gathering that night. The pair were congratulated on their find, though it was a perverse sense of pride they held as their names were recited first on the list of attendees. <em>We found the evidence,<em> Whitefang thought, licking herself thoroughly as she prepped with Swanmist, _And yet, I'd rather we hadn't needed to find any. Then again..._She glanced about at her clanmates. They looked plump and soft as Riverclan themselves, not like the hardened Shadowclan warriors they were meant to be. Swanmist finished her cleaning quickly, what with her short pelt and its simplicity. Whitefang was still struggling with the multitude of muddied mats that seemed to magically appear as soon as she had untangled only one of the many. Her silver and white sister giggled at the struggling warrior, and meandered over to assist in the cleaning.

"It's almost time to go!" Duckflight called to the hurrying pair. Whitefang growled and cursed her pelt between harried licks. Swanmist was silent, though behind the intense focus in her light green gaze, laughter glittered. Soon, Whitefang's pelt shone as brilliantly as the pale full moon. The two she-cats ran over to the patrol. Whitefang shuffled her paws excitedly.

"I haven't been to a gathering since we were apprentices, Swanmist! That's ages!" She mewed.

"You're always busy, or injured, or grumpy, or tired," Swanmist listed in a monotonous voice, stifling a grin. Whitefang shoved the smaller warrior with her shoulder. The group began padding through the forest.

"Aw, stuff a moss ball in your jaws, I'm not that lazy! Or accident prone! That was one time!" Whitefang protested. Not looking where she was going, the she-cat stumbled face first into a tree. Swanmist laughed wildly as Whitefang shook her head violently, rubbing a squashed muzzle with one large white paw.

"Not accident prone, you say! Only one time, you say!" She crowed. Whitefang scowled and swatted her sister over the head before chuckling herself.

"Okay, so maybe just a little klutzy..." She agreed, as Swanmist collapsed into yet another fit of giggles. Whitefang grinned. Swanmist looked up at her sister and smiled, panting a little.

"Oh, Whitefang. What would I ever do without you!" She exclaimed with a purr. Whitefang felt her heart warm satisfyingly.

"What are sisters for? To hurt themselves for the other's amusement, of course" She said giddily, bouncing on her paws in anticipation and happiness. _My sister is back_.

The two held their breath as the patrol for the gathering traveled through Riverclan territory to reach the tree-bridge to the island, and on there, they feigned pushing each other off the slippery bark into the dark, glittering, rippling water below.

"Whitefang! Shh! We've stopped!" Swanmist hush-giggled, earning them a glare from Sharpcloud, who stood ahead of them. Whitefang rolled her eyes as he turned away, and stuck out her tongue at his back. Swanmist snickered despite herself.

"Stop it! You goof!" She nudged Whitefang's leg with her shoulder. Whitefang glanced down at her sister and made another obscene gesture towards the senior warrior. _Thank Starclan Timbermask wasn't chosen tonight. I'd have to share her with his snooty self!_

"Whitefang!" Swanmist giggled.

"Don't hate me 'cause you ain't me, Swanmist." Whitefang mewed faux-primly, sticking her berry-like pink nose up into the crisp night air.

"Hush!" Stonetail scolded them. Their father had appeared beside them almost out of thin air. "I've been getting noise complaints. You two are something else tonight!" He said, suppressing a smile.

"Papa! We're just having little _fun_," Swanmist implored.

"Yeah! Tell them they can go and d-" Whitefang snapped, only to have her sister smack her silver and white tail over her muzzle.

"You little prat, you!" Swanmist snickered, "You'll get us all in a whole heap of foxdung talking like that!"

"Ladies," Stonetail mewed sternly. Amusement glittered in his eyes. A light tap on the large gray tom's shoulder from Addershriek jolted the deputy out of what might have been a compromising fit of laughter. The two warriors locked gazes, and Addershriek's left ear twitched twice. Eyes never leaving her father, Whitefang noticed him bristle slightly at the movements. Her father never bristled before any cat. His shoulders were tense as well. Finally, Addershriek looked away and padded back silently up to the front of the procession. Stonetail turned to his daughters, and his golden eyes were slightly darker than before. Whitefang noticed his whiskers quivering. That only happened when her father was upset. But when he spoke, his tone was even and warm.

"We'll be arriving in moments. Prepare yourselves." He whispered. Then, the deputy vanished back into the surge of cats. Whitefang glanced at her sister, and the two shared a wondering look.

"Did you see-" Whitefang began.

"The way he was twitching? Yeah. And the-" Swanmist added.

"Bristling, too. I wonder..." Whitefang murmured, finishing her sister's sentence. Swanmist nodded.

"Strange." She whispered. Then, almost instantaneously, the tail of all their clanmates ahead of them went soaring into the air. It was the signal. They were entering the hollow. Swanmist and Whitefang lept after the rest of Shadowclan as they plunged through the undergrowth and into the clearing of the island. Moonlight bathed their pelts as the Shadowclan cats stepped out of the darkness of the trees and into the lit clearing beneath the sparkling sky. Whitefang and Swanmist grinned at each other.

_Tonight is going to be epic!_ Whitefang decided. She and Swamist dove into the sea of smells and pelts.

**Hey guys, sorry, long long long time no update. Field Hockey is over and I'm getting a bit more used to the homework load of freshman year, and maybe I'll have a little more time to write. Hopefully!**

**So, I asked for a couple reviews, and we almost reached 500! That's halfway to a thousand! Which is a lot! OMG!**

**QOTD: How do you think Riverclan and Shadowclan should handle this serious offense versus how they probably will?**

**Hope y'all liked the bit of sisterly fun I shoved in there. We know those two could use a little time together :) So, most thoughtful reviewer gets their OC in next chapter! Remember to submit them in order to maybe win! YAYYYY!**

**Peace, Love, and Promises**

**-Bright**


	34. Blue Eyes

**Got no time for a long authors note! Winners of OC contest were Chinagal1, Celtic Silver, Willowsong, and Cinderfire! You guys mad me blush and grin wildly when I read those comments. You dove even deeper into the story than I ever imagined! Thank you! And we passed 500!**

As Swanmist and Whitefang wove through the crowd, the snow-pelted warrior breathed in deeply. The wind-blown scent of heather and open moors met her nose, as did the spicy, fresh, forest scent of Thunderclan. The fishy tang of Riverclan was not yet wafting through the air, and for that Whitefang was perversely proud. _That's it. Stay away, stinkin' cowards._ She remembered her first, and only, confrontation with actual Riverclan cats. Shimmerpool's visage was permanently seared in her mind. _Of course she's Riverclan. She tried to kill me, and is now commanding her clanmates to steal from us. _Whitefang snarled in her mind. But, turning her attention back to her sister by her side and the prospect of new friends, Whitefang's heart glowed.

"Look! Over there!" Swanmist gestured to a group of warriors. Whitefang glanced over.

"You know them, Swanmist?" She asked curiously.

"Oh, a few. I met them at one gathering or another. They're all so fun!" Swanmist grinned, green eyes sparkling, "See, the black she-cat with white flecks is Lightningdust. So nice, but pretty defensive. She's from Thunderclan. Beside her's Lilystem, the dark ginger she-cat with white paws? She's not necessarily the friendliest…and over there is Tansyclaw. Absolute _sweetheart_ and she's so pretty! I swear I thought Timbermask was going to fall for her, and I got terribly jealous. But she's the best!

"And there's Willowsong. I love her, she's so funny! She can make me laugh about anything, I swear. And I _wish_ I had her pelt. And Streamrunner isn't here yet, but she's a Riverclan cat. I _know_ they're trespassing, but honestly? She's so sweet, I could never see her fighting. And did I mention she's gorgeous? I _definitely_ saw Bouncestrike eyeing her before he got with Cherrynose…and I swear, when Shimmerpool's leader, Streamrunner will be deputy." Swanmist chattered, waving her tail to each of them. All but Lilystem waved back; the ginger warrior just seemed to narrow her eyes and slink back a little ways. Whitefang nodded and smiled to them. Then, she began scanning the clearing for any cat she might remember. She thought back to that group of friendly Thunderclan apprentices, warriors by now, who she had talked to so easily.

"Hey, who's that? Their pelt is so yellow, I thought it was midday already!" Swanmist joked, pointing out a cat with an insanely yellow pelt. As the she-cat turned around, revealing her wide orange eyes, Whitefang recognized her. _Sunshine?_

"I think I know her!" Whitefang squealed excitedly. Swanmist bounced up and down, like an over-eager apprentice.

"Really? Introduce me!" She giggled, pushing Whitefang forward. The burly

white warrior rolled her eyes.

"I doubt she remembers _me_, Swanmist." She sighed.

"Oh, just go say hi, you poo!" Swanmist teased, poking Whitefang in the shoulder encouragingly, "I'm sure she does!"

"Fine…" Whitefang agreed, padding forward and feigning confidence.

"Hey, Sunshine!" She called. The yellow cat's orange gaze rested on Whitefang and lit up immediately.

"Whitepaw? You've gotten so big!" Sunshine gasped happily, dashing over and purring.

"It's great to see you! Is everyone else here too? It's been so long!" Whitefang grinned, looking around for her old friends.

"Yeah, yeah, they're over there. Who's this?" Sunshine asked curiously, peering at Swanmist.

"This is my sister, Swanmist. Swanmist, this is Sunshine." Swanmist dipped her head as she was introduced, and Sunshine smiled almost as bright as her pelt.

"Hello! You're very pretty!" The Thunderclan warrior mewed. Swanmist blushed, and Whitefang rolled her eyes. _She hears it often enough._

"Let's go find the others!" Whitefang purred, padding forward. Sunshine nodded.

"Oh, yes. Over by that shrub. Everyone's there." Sunshine mewed, "Say, what's your warrior name? Mine's Sunblaze. I guess you can tell why." The chatty she-cat babbled.

"Whitefang. My warrior name's Whitefang." Whitefang meowed proudly. Sunshine blinked in surprise.

"Well, that's a great one! I'm sure you've heard the stories about the old Whitefang. We used to reenact the old tales when we were kits. Everyone wanted to be Whitefang, and now you are!" Sunshine grinned as they found the others. Whitefang blinked confusedly. _Stories? Namesake? Huh?_

Guys! Remember Whitepaw? She's Whitefang now! This is her sister, Swanmist!" Sunshine chirped, sitting down next to a familiar looking brown tabby she-cat. Whitefang had remembered Robinpaw being pretty, but she was stunning now. With her glossy, long furred chestnut-brown tabby pelt and glowing dark blue eyes. Beside her sat her brother, Fogpaw. He looked haughty as she had recalled, yet his mint green gaze still held flickers of welcome. And beside him was Applepaw. Whitefang was taken aback. The cream colored tom with warm ice-blue eyes had grown so big, as had Fogpaw. His fur was thick and looked as soft as creamy clouds, with his plumed tail resting across large paws. His face had become more angular, and in that way he looked like his sister, with Sunshine's slender, angled face. Yet the thick cream pelt softened his face. Fogpaw looked handsome and stately, with his frosted silver pelt, as he had so many moons before, yet Applepaw had grown handsome in an entirely different light. No longer was he the awkward, bulky pawed tom. He was…beautiful. For a tom, of course. Catching herself staring, Whitefang looked back at all of them. Robinpaw grinned.

"Great name! I'm Robinfoot now. And Fogpaw's Fogfrost." Robinfoot grinned. Her voice had gotten slightly lower, but was still sweet as honey and musical as birds.

"And he's cocky as ever. If anything, it's gotten worse." Applepaw joked, shouldering Fogfrost. The aristocratic silver warrior merely glanced imperiously at Applepaw.

"Am not. And he's become Appleclaw. Not that apples have claws. And he hasn't quite mastered his." Fogfrost spoke haughtily. Whitefang laughed.

"Same old, same old around here I guess." She chuckled. Swanmist giggled as well.

"Well, come sit!" Sunshine gestured from her seat beside Robinfoot. Fogfrost was next to the brown tabby, and Appleclaw was beside him. The cream tom nodded encouragingly to Whitefang and patted the soft dirt beside his own place. Whitefang shrugged and settled herself in, Swanmist joining her. As soon as they had seated themselves, the fish-and-weeds scent of Riverclan flooded the Island clearing. Whitefang growled.

"What's up with you?" Sunshine asked, leaning over curiously.

"Riverclan. They've been trespassing and hunting on our territory. And no doubt they'll deny it tonight." The snow-colored warrior hissed.

"Well, best make room for them anyway." Appleclaw mewed, casually wrapping his tail around Whitefang and pulling her in closer to him. The she-cat stiffened at the touch, and Appleclaw looked at her, hurt flashing slightly in his gaze before being replaced by a semi-teasing glitter in the depths of ice blue.

"Afraid of me, Ms Shadowclan warrior?" He joked softly. Whitefang looked him in the eye. She was his same height and about the same bulk, if not having slightly less muscle mass.

"About as much as I am of kits." She retorted, prying herself away from him. But Swanmist had moved in as well, and with the Riverclan cats squeezing their sleek, plump bodies into the clearing, Whitefang knew she would have to be uncomfortably squashed against her old friend all night. Appleclaw seemed not to notice, his gaze was directed elsewhere. A commanding presence was striding through the crowds, making cats of every clan part to watch her pad to the front. Her dark silver pelt gleamed like it had been polished by stars and streaked through with stripes of the inkiest midnight hue. Muscles rippled beneath the glowing pelt. Not a hair was out of place, and her fiery amber eyes blazed like forest fires lit by burning moonbeams. Her claws, seemingly permanently unsheathed, gleamed as if they were made of moonstone, hooked and thorn-sharp, and yet did not seem strange or out of place. Her whiskers arched like firm strands of spiderwebs, glittering and dancing as she walked. She caught the attention of every tom in awe and lust, and every she-cat in envy and fear. The warrior did not even bother to meet any cat's gaze, as if she were too high above all to recognize their pitiful stares. Whitefang felt the tiniest, perverse twinge of anger as she realized Appleclaw was watching the other she-cat's every move. _Shimmerpool. How could I forget you?_ Whitefang thought, bracing herself to hear the voice of her former attacker, her current enemy: its tone was soft and silky, but had a dangerous edge to it. She remembered it clearly, and braced herself. But nothing came. The she-cat merely faded into the crowd. Whispers began.

"Where is Lakestar?"

"I heard he died,"

"How?"

"She's stunning, per usual,"

"You have no chance with her, Storkpaw!"

"Where _is_ Riverclan's leader?"

"She's Shimmerstar, now. He died last moon of a strange lump in his stomach. Took his last two lives."

"Hear that?" Sunshine gasped.

"Yeah. _She's_ leader." Robinfoot snapped.

"Rather lovely." Fogfrost meowed wistfully.

"Aw, shut up!" Appleclaw groaned, shoving the tom, "She's just another sly Riverclanner trying to gain more pompous attention." Swanmist nodded.

"He's right. Shimmerstar's nothing but trouble." She added.

"How's Squirrelclan doing, while we'reon the topic of pompous attention seekers?" Whitefang grinned.

"So clever," Fogfrost rolled his eyes, "We're doing quite well."

"Yes," Robinfoot agreed, "No new kits on the way, but that's soon to change," she snuck a sly look at her brother. Fogfrost puffed his chest up and glanced at his sister highhandedly.

"Now, my love life is not a thing to be discussed during gatherin-" Fogfrost began, only to be cut of by a squeal from Sunshine.

"Oh, stop it! We all know how much you love to talk about Birchrunner. And goodness, do you two not stop nuzzling and purring?" The yellow warrior exclaimed.

"What about you and Smoketail, huh?" Robinfoot nudged her small friend knowingly, "You're not one to talk."

"Me and Smoketail are absolutely _nothing_ compared to you and your parade of lovers!" Sunshine snapped defensively. Robinfoot narrowed her eyes.

"Parade of lovers?" She growled.

"You know it's true," Appleclaw meowed sympathetically, "They never leave you alone."

"That's because they don't respect the fact that Pinenose and I are _exclusive_." Robinfoot meowed pointedly.

"You want to talk about joined at the flank? Timbermask, that brown tabby over there, and Swanmist…" Whitefang shook her head. Swanmist flushed.

"We're not that bad!" She protested.

"Well, what about you, Whitefang? Surely you're one with a tom back in Shadowclan." Appleclaw said easily.

"Not in the least." Whitefang replied, "What decent tom would want a ragged she-cat twice his size?" Appleclaw frowned.

"Ragged? I prefer…untamed." He grinned. Whitefang rolled her eyes.

"Oh, don't let _your_ lovely mate hear you say that, Appleclaw." She retorted.

"Lovely mate? Surely, you're mistaken. I'm not taken." He rhymed, "Though, hopefully, one of these days, she'll take the hint…" Whitefang looked at him curiously.

"You're a hinter, now, are you?" She laughed.

"Quite," Appleclaw said, "And alas, she doesn't find me remotely mate-worthy! Tis my miserable fate!" He groaned, collapsing dramatically against Whitefang, who, in surprise, tumbled backwards. She fell unceremoniously against a dark ginger tabby pelt. It was soft, she figured, at least that was good. And the muscle beneath was firm. Glancing up, she found a pair of bemused sky-blue eyes staring down at her.

"Can I help you?" A deep, young voice asked. She shook her head, breathy with laughter.

"No, no!" She giggled. Appleclaw's head was on her stomach, forcing air from her insides out in great gusts of musical laughter. Her eyes teared up with mirth at the ridiculousness of it all. Lifting her head, she peered merrily at the fluffy, cream-colored face that gazed back at her, and the glowing ice blue eyes that met her own golden orbs.

"Comfortable?" She chuckled.

"Very. Quite fluffy!" Appleclaw chortled, batting at one of her large white paws with an equally bulky one of his own playfully, "This just made my night. Gathering, plus a nest!"

"Well, I'm glad I could help," Whitefang giggled. The ginger tabby stared at the two, face expressionless. Appleclaw noticed his clear blue gaze and grinned wildly, eyes alight with the woozy glee that comes with laughter, late nights, and beautiful she-cats.

"May I be of service, sir?" He joked, "You seem to have lost something."

"No…I haven't lost anything," the tom said slowly, glancing from Whitefang to Appleclaw. The cream tom's eyes narrowed.

"Well, it seems you're looking for something where there is nothing of yours. If you'll excuse us," Appleclaw heaved himself up off of Whitefang, which caused her to inhale deeply, and exhale in a fit of uncontrollable giggles, "We'll be going." Appleclaw finished, lifting the large white warrior to her paws, where she promptly fell against him in laughter. Appleclaw laughed at her mirth, and soon the two had fallen again, with Fogfrost catching them, and Swanmist being infected by their raucous laughter. Whitefang turned to the ginger tom, wiping tears of glee from her eyes with a paw.

"Thank you," she breathed, "For breaking my…er, collapse." She giggled again.

"No problem," the tom meowed warmly. Whitefang turned around and began joking with the others again, and did not catch his last few words.

As the group of six young warriors teased each other lightheartedly, the groups around them grew quiet. Addershriek came up behind Whitefang.

"Whitefang! Hush yourselves! The leaders are about to speak!" the dark tabby scolded, hazel eyes disapproving. Whitefang stifled another snicker.

"Yes, Addershriek," She mewed seriously.

"Don't make me come over here again," the tom said sternly, glancing from Whitefang to each of her friends. Swanmist hid behind Sunshine so he wouldn't see her grin. As Addershriek left, the six quieted, and lifted their eyes to the Great Tree. Shimmerstar yowled first.

"Riverclan is sad to announce the passing of Lakestar last moon. I am now Shimmerstar, and Streamrunner, my deputy, has joined me tonight." The Clans chanted Shimmerstar's new name, as well as Lakestar's and Streamrunner's. Well, every cat who wasn't Shadowclan did. The she-cat's voice was just as Whitefang remembered: a velvet coated thorn.

"Riverclan has been welcoming back great amounts of fish the Newleaf, along with two new litters of kits. We have three new apprentices and one new warrior: please welcome Softpaw, Hoppaw, Shypaw, and Rowanleap!" Shimmerstar finished. Once again, the cheers of names echoed around the island. Wildstar spoke next.

"Windclan chased off a fox and her two cubs from their set two nights ago, and have suffered no casualties. We have no new kits yet, but I am sure Starclan will bless us with many litters in the coming moons. The rabbits are plentiful, and that is all for Windclan." The fawn colored she-cat said, stepping back.

"Thunderclan is thriving!" Dewstar announced boldly, met by cheers from his clanmates, "We have no new kits, but welcomed two new apprentices! Petalpaw and Sharppaw!" All the Clans chanted these two names.

"We have four new warriors: Sorrelpelt, Willowleaf, Flowerheart, and Kinkfur, and are sad to announce that Quickstorm has retired to the elder's den after many moons of service." These names, too, were called.

"Prey is practically throwing itself at our paws, and all is well in Thunderclan this moon." Dewstar finished proudly. Hollowstar stepped forward last.

"Cats of all Clans, Riverclan is stealing our prey!" He snarled viciously. There were gasps and shouts echoing around the island now, and hisses from Shadowclanners and Riverclanners alike.

"We have found the scents, and what you have tried-and failed-to catch! Do not deny it!" Hollowstar rumbled.

"Not one of my cats would ever set foot in your demeaning marshes, Hollowstar, you are sorely mistaken. However, I _do_ forgive your insolence." Shimmerstar drawled, inspecting a single gleaming claw. Whitefang bristled.

"Coward!" she shouted. Shimmerstar angled one ear toward the voice, but did not tear her eyes fro her seemingly fascinating claw.

"You lie, you cheat, and you stink of fish and rot. The stink must have corrupted your memory, Shimmerstar, for we have evidence." Hollowstar hissed.

"Why don't you move along, Hollowstar, and continue whatever other tales you wish us to believe, hmm?" Shimmerstar suggested. Hollowstar bared his teeth to snarl, but kept his composure.

"Do not think this issue will go unaddressed, Shimmerstar. If the treachery continues, we _will_ be forced to act. And it would be a pity to wash your stench from my paws when you're beaten." Hollowstar said loftily. Shimmerstar bristled slightly, but relaxed her pelt almost as suddenly, and it seemed as if nothing had ever been amiss.

"With no further ado, Shadowclan is welcoming a coming litter of kits, expected by Cherrynose and Bouncestrike," The black warrior's voice carried up through the whispers among the crowd:

"A new group of warriors to shame the fish-breaths!" He had shouted.

"And soon, we will have three new apprentices. Prey is leaping in our territory, but not fast enough to escape my warriors. Shadowclan is thriving, and _we will thrive _ no matter the…minor issues approached." Hollowstar shot a look toward Shimmerstar. Wildstar, sensing the tension, pushed Hollowstar aside and yowled to the cats assembled:

"Gathering dismissed! Windclan, to me!"

Whitefang let the burning tension fade from the tightness of her muscles and turned back to her friends.

"Guess this is goodbye," she meowed disappointedly, wishing she had a little more time to enjoy herself before returning home. _Home? More like a house of horrors._ She frowned.

"Yes, we should be going. Hollowstar isn't happy." Swanmist sighed.

"It was wonderful meeting you, Swanmist. And seeing you again, Whitefang!" Robinfoot purred, Sunshine agreeing. Fogfrost nodded.

"It was fun. Hope to see you next time?" The silver warrior meowed with a smile as he padded away after his sister. Whitefang flinched slightly at Appleclaw's closeness as he leaned in to nuzzle her ear.

"I had fun." He grinned, looking at her.

"So did I," She meowed, taking a step back. The cream tom didn't seem to notice. As Whitefang turned away, joining Swanmist as they made their way to the rest of their Clan, the silver and white she-cat looked at Whitefang gleefully.

"Oh, Whitefang, he likes you!" She whispered.

"Who?" Whitefang asked, surprised.

"Oh, don't play coy! Appleclaw of course!" Swanmist grinned, nudging her sister lightly. Whitefang frowned.

"No, he doesn't. We're just friends." She protested.

"Sure." Swanmist rolled her eyes, "You didn't see the way he was looking at you?"

"No," Whitefang snapped, "We're just friends. I don't want a mate. He's from Thunderclan, for Starclan's sake! And he said he was hinting to some she-cat. Even if he liked me, he already has some cat on his mind."

"Oh, Whitefang, you'll get a mate. And he is _so_ into you. The cat he was hinting about? He was hinting to you, about you!" She mewed exasperatedly. Whitefang shook her head.

"Not interested, Swanmist, Stop playing matchmaker." She groaned.

"You'll find some cat someday, be it Appleclaw or not." The she-cat said firmly.

"Whatever." Whitefang sighed.

The returned home, and Whitefang sank into her nest. Despite what she had said, eyes danced in her mind all night. Blue eyes.

**Every character, line, action, and detail of this chapter is important. **

**Thoughts?**

**Your QOTD is just to tell me your opinions on the occurrences in this chapter.**

**I'm hoping we can catch up with the reviews on Warrior's Couples Counseling (which I suggest you read. It's pretty funny. If you want something deeper, try The Great Divide, which was recently updated.)**

**All the best,**

**Bright**


	35. Frenzy

**Update again! Wow this one was a lot sooner than the last.**

"Wake up, you lazy slug!" Swanmist chuckled, poking her sister.

"Ungh," Whitefang grunted, peeling open one golden eye. Swanmist's white face glowed in the half-light, illuminating the subtle silver swirls. Whitefang suppressed a sigh. _Of course. Last night was but one time where I'm not overshadowed by something radiant. Though I can't hate Swanmist for being herself._ She opened both her eyes fully and hauled herself to her paws, shaking the sleep from her pelt.

"Why so early?" She groaned, leaning over into an arching stretch. She immediately fell over her own paws into a pile of dense red fur.

"Watch it!" Dawnstrike snapped. Whitefang removed herself sheepishly, muzzle buried deep in her chest fur with embarrassment.

"Sorry," She mumbled. Glancing at Swanmist, her gaze was pleading. _Can we go?_ She asked silently.

"Clan meeting." Swanmist sighed.

"This early, the morning after a gathering?" Whitefang questioned as her sister led her out of the warrior's den.

"Well, last night was pretty big, and we got home _super_ late. I guess he just can't wait to tell everyone what happened." Swanmist offered helpfully. Whitefang nodded. He dreams swam through her clouded mind. Eyes, of all different colors, glowing from within bushes. Especially blue eyes. There were lots of blue eyes. Just the thought of blue eyes made her head ache and her vision swim.

"So, about last night…" Swanmist mewed casually, casting a cheeky glance toward Whitefang, who silenced her with a stern look.

"Interclan relationships are against the code. Do _not_ try to force me into being mates with one of my only friends, let _alone_ the fact that he most certainly does _not_ like me that way." She snapped. Swanmist rolled her eyes.

"Whatever you say Whitefang. But to everyone else, it looked like you two were _all over _each other. Honestly. But maybe you'll find some attraction here," She winked, "Grayshadow's cute."

"That fleabag? You've _got_ to be kidding me, Swanmist. He's got it in for me just as bad as everyone else." Whitefang pointed out.

"Oh, poo on you and your follies." Swanmist pouted. Before Whitefang could make a stinging retort, Hollowstar lept up onto Speaking Stone, dark tortie pelt shining in the dawn light.

"Shadowclan!" He called regally from his place upon the great rock, "Last night, we confronted Shimmerstar at the gathering about our evidence. She denied it! On top of that, she insulted our integrity as a Clan. She called us liars and fools beneath Starclan and before Thunderclan and Windclan as well! If we find fresh scent on our territory from them today," The tom bared his teeth threateningly, a wild gleam in his green gaze, "Then we will fight!"

"There will be fish-blood spilt today!" Dawnstrike snarled, "If I catch one of those writhing cowards, there won't be anything left of them to send back!"

"Mange-balls! Think they can get away with anything!" Icegaze hissed furiously.

"Hollowstar, shall we send out a patrol now?" Blueshine piped up eagerly from where she sat beside Rainwing. The younger she-cat ruffled her silver-blue pelt so like her mother's.

"Yes, send one now to teach them their lesson!" She cried vehemently.

"No, we shall not look like fools sending battle patrols to our borders suspiciously at the crack of dawn," Hollowstar decided, "I will assign cats in shifts to watch the border over the course of they day. They will not be spotted, but if they catch one of those fish-breaths crossing…there will be consequences." Hollowstar's voice grew frighteningly low. Whitefang saw Swanmist shiver, but instead of fear, she felt something hot inside her stomach. _Those sorrow cats will regret ever crossing Shadowclan!_ She thought proudly. But Hollowstar was not finished speaking.

"With a lighter heart, I am proud to announce that today is the marking of three kits' coming of age!" He smiled, "Though it is early, and these three are probably very tired, I am proud to call Shiverkit, Stormkit, and Fadingkit up to receive their apprentice names and mentors." Waterfall's eyes lit up with surprise, and dragged her closest kitten to her in a harried effort to groom their pelt. Icegaze did the same, while Quietdream, his sister, took on the duty with the third. Whitefang watched amusedly. She examined her own pelt. _ Just in case I'm chosen_. She thought hopefully. It wasn't too bad…she untangled one mat that had sprung up overnight, and smoothed her whiskers. The grooming from last night had thankfully continued into this morning.

"I hope we get two!" Swanmist whispered eagerly as the kits padded excitedly up to the Speaking Stone. Whitefang nodded, eyes dead set on Hollowstar.

"Shiverkit, please step forward," Hollowstar meowed grandly. The tiny pale gray, white speckled she-kit walked forward a few steps stiffly. Whitefang grinned. It was clear she was trying not to leap with joy.

"From now on until you earn your full name, your name will be Shiverpaw. Your mentor is Shyfawn, for I know you have expressed interest in becoming Shadowclan's next medicine cat. This honor is now bestowed upon you, and I trust you will serve well." Shyfawn strode up to her new apprentice imperiously, but her gaze was soft and kind when they touched noses. The Clan cheered Shiverpaw's name.

"Stormkit, your name until you earn your warrior name is Stormpaw. To help you reach this ultimate goal, your mentor is Whitefang," The pale-pelted she-cat let out a small gasp of delight. Waterfall's green eyes sparkled when she glanced over, and Whitefang mouthed a quick thank-you before hurrying to her new apprentice.

"I know that Whitefang will pass down to you her courage, determination, and skill. And maybe a little size, too." Hollowstar joked gently. Whitefang smiled as she leaned down to touch noses with the newly named 'paw. Stormpaw, she knew, was unique. He was calm and still throughout the ceremony, yet his clover-green eyes sparked with quiet determination.

"I promise, I'll make you the best warrior you can be." She murmured proudly as they parted. The small gray tom smiled for the first time that morning.

"I know," He breathed. Shadowclan cheered his name a little less wildly.

"Finally, Fadingkit. Your name is now Fadingpaw! Your mentor from now until you earn your warrior name is Timbermask, and I trust that he will show you the ways of a proud warrior." Hollowstar finished with a flourish of his long, tortoiseshell tail. The small gradient-pelted kitten stepped confidently to her mentor, tail swishing eagerly, small black muzzle touching lightly and fleetingly with the large, pale brown tabby's. _She's got spunk._ Whitefang thought approvingly. She heard Swanmist sigh heavily after the Clan was finished cheering for all the new apprentices.

"What is it?" She asked, turning to her sister.

"I was I had gotten one." Swanmist mewed longingly.

"He probably thinks you're still a little fragile. Just give it time. There will be new kits soon." Whitefang comforted, "And I only got one because Waterfall put in a good word." She added.

"I only Rosedust would have some more!" Swanmist meowed dramatically, "Have fun training today, _mentor_ Whitefang." Swanmist grinned, "Stop by Riverclan's border if you wanna say hi. I'm gonna volunteer for some extra shifts to prove I've had enough 'time'." She smiled. But it was clear she still needed some. Her eyes had grown misty, and she turned away quickly to Whitefang wouldn't hear her sniffles. She did. Whitefang wanted to stay with her hurting sister, but she couldn't neglect her new apprentice. She watched as Paledove hurried over to Swanmist and wrapped a tail around the she-cat's shoulders before glaring at Whitefang. The pale warrior ignored it, though it stung, and spoke to Stormpaw.

"Hey Stormpaw!" She grinned. It was genuine, and she tried to push all thoughts of Swanmist from her mind.

"What're we going to do today, Whitefang?" He asked shyly. Whitefang purred.

"No need to be so reserved, Stormpaw. I don't bite," She laughed, "And we'll be working together for many moons. Might as well be comfortable."

"Okay," The young tom smiled.

"So, today, we'll tour the territory. And if you're lucky and we have time, I'll have you try out your hunting crouch!" She decided. Stormpaw bounced a little on his paws, eyes shining.

"Really?" He asked hopefully.

"Of course! But only if we have time. So let's not dillydally, and hurry on out there!" Whitefang purred, padding towards the camp exit. Stormpaw trotted happily by her side, gazing out at the forest expectantly.

_Great Starclan, please let me be a good mentor. Don't let me disappoint Stormpaw. _She prayed as they emerged from the tunnel. Stormpaw gasped.

"The trees are so big!" He mewed in wonder, peering around, "And the ground is so soft, covered with grass and pine needles. And there are so many smells! Whitefang, does the forest go on forever?" He asked. Whitefang chuckled, and Stormpaw hung his head, realizing his question was silly.

"Of course it doesn't go on forever. I'm so stupid." He sighed.

"You're not stupid! It's your first time out of camp. It's natural to get excited and curious, and to ask questions." Whitefang murmured soothingly, "I remember, on my first day out, I was so excited. I was walking with Swanmist and our mentors, and we ran into a Riverclan border patrol! My first border skirmish was on my first day as an apprentice. Boy, was that a shock!" She laughed as she recalled it.

"D'you think we'll face a Riverclan patrol too?" Stormpaw asked eagerly.

"I hope not," Whitefang shook her head, "I wouldn't want you to. It was scary. Let's just focus on getting familiar with our territory, okay?"

"Alright." Stormpaw agreed.

"Race you to the Lake shore!" Whitefang exclaimed, dashing forward. Stormpaw, giggling, raced after her.

* * *

><p>"And then, I saw this huge fish! It was so big, I bet i was as big as Whitefang!" The she-cat heard Stormpaw describe his adventure out of camp to his siblings. Shiverpaw's eyes grew wide, while Fadingpaw smirked.<p>

"Oh yeah? I bet you five mouse tails it was only as big as Shyfawn!" The gray and black she-cat said confidently, referencing her sister's small mentor.

"I swear to Starclan, it was huge!" Stormpaw argued.

"Well, I learned where to find catmint today," Shiverpaw mewed happily.

"Listen to them! Were we ever that small?" Swanmist asked humorously.

"Oh, yes we were," Whitefang laughed, "And I don't miss it!" Swanmist smiled.

"So I take it your little adventure went well?" She asked.

"Yeah, it was great. I'd forgotten how short their legs are though. I had to walk so slowly! I'll whip him into shape in no time, though. Soon, he'll be able to run with the warriors!" Whitefang boasted.

"Whatever you say, O Wise One." Swanmist joked, rolling her eyes.

"So, anything interesting happen over by the border?" Whitefang wondered, rolling onto her back and stretching lazily.

"No, nothing. Not even a single stray fur tuft." Swanmist sighed, flopping down beside her sister.

"Maybe it really was a one time thing." She mused.

"Yeah. But there was so much talk among the scouts." Swanmist frowned.

"About what?"

"You."

"What for?" Whitefang asked defensively.

"They think...well, they think you shouldn't have been given Stormpaw. They think he should've gone to some other cat." Swanmist mewed sheepishly.

"Why in Starclan's name-" Whitefang spluttered angrily.

"Because they still don't trust you. They still believe Paledove. I'm sorry, Whitefang. They said you wouldn't be a good influence, that you shouldn't be a warrior, even. Don't worry. I love you, Whitefang, isn't that enough?" Swanmist pleaded. The white warrior growled softly.

"When Stormpaw becomes one of the best warriors Shadowclan's ever seen, they'll have shoved their tails in their mouths!" Whitefang hissed.

"Whitefang-" Swanmist began, only to be cut off by a startled yowl. Both she-cats sat up, only to see a wild-eyed Sharpcloud, pelt torn and matted with blood.

"What happened?" Shrieked Rosedust, running to her mate. The Clan worked itself into a frenzy, until Hollowstar shouted a command.

"Silence!" He roared.

"We-were attacked! On our own territory!" Sharpcloud gasped. Icegaze and Dawnstrike had dragged themselves into camp as well, a bedraggled Stonetail limping behind them...carrying something. Whitefang's heart stopped. Hollowstar howled as his littermate's prone body fell limply to the ground.

"Darkclaw!"

**Good evening, new update!**

**Love them reviews, guys! Keep 'em coming!**

**QOTD: Thoughts on Whitefang's new apprentice? Your reactions to Darkclaw-is he dead?**

**I shall see y'all later...**

**lotsa love from:**

**Brighteyes**


	36. Warrior of Wolves

**Holy shoot, we're a chapter away from the halfway point. jeezus, we've come so far guys. But you'll hate me so much next chapter. So so much.**

"No!" Hollowstar cried, dashing forward to the patrol. Stonetail stepped aside respectfully.

"Get Shyfawn! He's still breathing!" The deputy shouted to the shell-shocked bystanders. Whitefang nodded quickly and ran to the medicine cat den.

"What's all the commotion out there?" Shyfawn asked, seeing the horror upon Whitefang's face.

"It's Darkclaw, oh, come quickly Shyfawn, it was those fish faces!" Whitefang wailed. The black and orange tortie quickly snatched up a lump of green leaves and small, brightly colored berries before hurrying out into the clearing. Shiverpaw's eyes were wide as she padded after her mentor. Whitefang followed them out, heart pounding in her chest like pawsteps on a battlefield.

_Please, Starclan, let him be okay. If-if he dies, he'll never see his son again. Great Starclan, if he dies, Barkpaw-Leo-will never know he's gone. Please, Starclan, let him live!_ Whitefang pleaded desperately. The unconscious Darkclaw lay out in the clearing, battered, bruised, and bloodied.

"Give me space!" Shyfawn spat, her quick and ferocious business manner returning. Shiverpaw stayed by her side loyally.

"Whitefang, I can't even look!" Swanmist whimpered, turning her head to the side. Whitefang nodded stiffly, words catching in her throat. The shock had worn off now, replaced by anger. _How dare they? Attack us on our own territory! _She fumed.

"Are you two alright?" Her father's comforting voice pierced her thoughts.

"Yes, but-OH!" Swanmist exclaimed when she lifted her green eyes to Stonetail. The tom's pelt was tattered, with angry scratches lacing his flanks.

"Papa!" Whitefang breathed.

"It doesn't hurt, love. Shyfawn has her paws full, too." The deputy gazed sadly over toward Darkclaw. Shyfawn announced that he was too hurt to move him into the medicine cat den, so warriors were busying themselves with creating a makeshift den about the injured tom in the center of the clearing.

"You can't possibly say it doesn't hurt!" Swanmist frowned.

"It doesn't hurt," Stonetail insisted. Another mew joined the conversation. Whitefang flinched.

"Darling, get Shiverpaw to tend to those scratches, they're going to get infected." Paledove said. She had appeared at her mate's side, crystal blue eyes wide and concerned. Her sleek, slender silver face turned from Stonetail to Swanmist.

"Oh, love, could you fetch Shiverpaw? These need to be tended to." The silver she-cat meowed.

"But mother-" Swanmist began, glancing nervously at her father. The gray and white tom was eyeing Paledove, a queer expression playing across his muzzle.

"Swanmist," Paledove meowed firmly. The silver and white she-cat sighed and her tail tip twitched.

"Mother, if he says he's fine, he's fine. They'll get cleaned. Shyfawn and Shiverpaw have larger issues right now." The young warrior said with an air of finality. Whitefang expected Paledove to madden. Instead, the pale silver warrior smiled.

"Oh! You're so stubborn, sweetheart. But of course you're right. What was I thinking?" She purred sweetly, licking Swanmist's cheek.

"Mama! I'm not a kitten!" She laughed. Whitefang stood in the corner awkwardly, as if she were intruding on an important gathering…of a different family. Stonetail noticed.

"Whitefang, sweet, how was your first day with Stormpaw?" He asked gently, as if easing her in. Whitefang's shoulders loosened slightly. _Maybe things have gotten better…_

"Stormpaw's very enthusiastic!" She grinned, "He get's very invested in whatever he's doing, and he's a quick learner. He was a little shy at first but-"

"You don't _deserve_ that apprentice." Paledove hissed.

"Wha-Mother! Of course Whitefang deserves Stormpaw! She'll be a wonderful mentor!" Swanmist frowned.

"She doesn't deserve that _name,_ let alone an apprentice," Paledove snarls, "And Swanmist, don't you go about defending her. You know as well as I do she'll never be as good as you."

"Please, Mama," Swanmist pleaded, but her voice was weak. When Paledove raged, she raged terribly. Swanmist stood no chance of protest.

"Look at her! She looks like no kit of mine! Swanmist, she's nothing. She's ugly and stupid, and selfish. AH! I can't even look at you anymore, get out of my sight!" Paledove snapped turning away from Whitefang abruptly.

"Paledove, you are _vicious_! A monster! Why can't you see her for what she is?" Stonetail snarled.

"I do see her for what she is! Remember our deal? I left her sleep in my nest for six moons and then I'm rid of her!" Paledove hissed.

"That doesn't mean you have the right to bully her into submission! Or spread lies and hate!" Stonetail growled menacingly.

"What is wrong with her? She is nothing! Do you not love our _true_ daughter?"

"Of course I love Swanmist! But Whitefang is our kit as well!"

"_Our_ kit?!"

Whitefang teared up. She couldn't take this anymore. _And to think I thought it might have changed._ She ran from her parents, and entered the warrior's den. Stumbling in, she heard hushed voices stop speaking. She looked up, only to find herself under the scrutinizing glares of Mothwhisker and Dawnstrike. She darted from that den, and found herself in the clearing again; Stonetail and Paledove were still fighting, and Swanmist had slunk away to find the warm embrace of Timbermask. Whitefang felt her heart sink. Alone, afraid, and heartbroken, she had nowhere left to turn. _Maybe…_She wondered, _Frecklestep and Jumpfire were kind to me before._ She hurried to the elder's den.

"Whitefang, child!" Jumpfire exclaimed as the tearful warrior burst through the den entrance.

"What are you doing in here? What's wrong?" Frecklestep asked gently, coming up to the warrior. She collapsed on the moss and began to weep.

"E-Everybody h-hates me!" She sobbed.

"Aw, shut up! Can't you see this is an elder's den, not an apprentice's-dramatic-woes-den?!" Lostwind snapped.

"That's not true, Whitefang." Frecklestep sighed, "And Lostwind, keep out of this you old coot!"

"You d-didn't see t-them," She whimpered, lifting her head and looking into the old tom's yellow eyes.

"Hush, hush. It will be all right. Starclan is watching over you, young'un." Jumpfire sighed, sitting back in his nest. Whitefang lay there on the ground, breaths shuddering, feeling the presence of wisdom and comfort about her. As she lay there, she was reminded of something she had wanted to ask…

"_I do hope you live up to your name. It is one with a history, and do take care not to tarnish it."_

"_I'm sure you've heard the stories about the old Whitefang. We used to reenact the old tales when we were kits."_

"_She doesn't deserve that name, let alone an apprentice,"_

They had been bothering her for some time. And now, she was sheltering where stories were spun and told.

"Frecklestep?" She wondered.

"Yes?" The speckled tom replied softly.

"Could you tell me a story?" She asked.

"Aren't you a bit old for stories?" Jumpfire asked bemusedly.

"No one's too old for a good story, be it fact or fiction." Frecklestep smiled.

"What would you like to here?" Jumpfire asked.

"I'd like to hear-to hear about Whitefang. The original," She added.

"That's a fine tale if I ever heard one!" Frecklestep mewed approvingly.

"I'm surprised you haven't asked for it before." Jumpfire said.

"It's been in the back of my mind for a while," Whitefang admitted.

"Well then, let's begin…" Jumpfire smiled.

* * *

><p>"<em>On the first day of Leafbare, when the trees glowed bright against the soft dawn sky, two warriors of ancient Tigerclan went out to follow a strange sound. It was a long, drawn out sound, both joyful and mournful at the same time. It was no sound they'd ever heard before.<em>

"_Deep into their territory, this was before the days of twolegs, when the world was wild, they walked, guided by the sound. Finally, they came to a clearing. The clearing was rimmed with bushes of the brightest red and trees that held dying leaves of gold, amber, and blazing orange. The grass was a warm heather-brown, and in the midst of this beauty emerged a figure. This figure was larger than either warrior, and held itself with a noble stature. Its pelt was brighter than anything they had ever seen before, and seemed to glimmer with the light of a thousand stars in its silver depths. Its eyes were a deep, all-knowing black. The warriors beheld the mystical creature with awe, and watched with even further astonishment as a white cub ventured forth from between its massive starlit paws. The dawn light hit the cub's pelt to make it glow with a thousand colors, though it was still white. Its eyes were a startling blue, the blue of Leafbare's skies shining through a mist of snow. The warriors wondered why such a cat would be staying, unharmed, with this majestic creature. It was then that the creature tilted its head to the breaking down and let out a cry. It was the sound the warriors had followed. Low and musical, filled with drawn out sorrow and joy. Once the sound had finished, the creature lowered its gaze to the warriors. It bent down and lifted up the cub, padded over, and placed the white child by the Tigerclan warriors' paws. In a flash, the creature was gone. Thus was the beginning of the Legend of Whitefang, warrior raised by wolves."_

* * *

><p>Frecklestep continued his tale, Whitefang listening with rapt, unwavering attention. She listened to amazing battles, lost lives, and acts of outstanding bravery. She envisioned a she-cat, proud and powerful with a pelt of snow and Leafbare blue eyes, fighting against terrors of the heart, mind, and soul. A she-cat who was amazing no matter where she came from or what she looked like. And she was inspired. Once Frecklestep finished, she gasped.<p>

"It's not over, is it? It can't end like that! Please, Frecklestep, tell me there's more!" She pleaded.

"I'm afraid that's it. Her story remains undocumented after that." Frecklestep smiled at the warrior's kit-like attitude. Whitefang sighed.

"Thank you anyway. It was truly…eye opening." She meowed earnestly. Frecklestep nodded in thanks, while Jumpfire smiled kindly.

"Feel better, Whitefang?" He asked.

"Much," She purred, "But I guess…I have to go out." She frowned at the den entrance.

"Face them with pride in yourself, steel in your veins, and courage in your heart." Jumpfire encouraged. The warrior steeled herself, and walked out of the den.

"How is he?" Whitefang asked quietly when she found Shyfawn building a makeshift nest inside Darkclaw's private den. The tortie looked exhausted.

"He-he…I honestly don't know, Whitefang. I've done all I can. Let's just pray Starclan doesn't take him now." She sighed, "Everything would be so much easier if…" The medicine cat trailed off as Shiverpaw trotted into the den, jaws full.

"I brought some more mallow, Shyfawn," The tiny she-cat mewed. Shyfawn sniffed the air disdainfully.

"That's not mallow, Shiverpaw, that's marigold. Remember, I told you to-"

"Look before I reach. Sorry, Shyfawn." The little cat hung her head, "I'll go get the mallow now, Shyfawn." She mewed softly, backing out of the den. Once she left, Shyfawn groaned.

"I know I'm tough on her, but it's been so long since I…you know." The old she-cat said, looking at Whitefang, who nodded.

"It's hard to train a young cat. I know that now!" She joked lightly. Shyfawn smiled slightly.

"Yes, it is. Now why don't you go get some rest?" Shyfawn suggested, leaning down to sniff delicately at Darkclaw's wrappings, "Stale." She muttered.

"It isn't even twilight!" Whitefang protested.

"Showers tonight. I feel it in my bones; there will be lots of rain." Shyfawn shrugged, "And it's always easier to get to sleep before the roof leaks than after," She mewed, humor glittering in her turquoise gaze.

"Alright, I'll try. Goodnight, Shyfawn." Whitefang murmured.

"Goodnight, child. Sleep well." Shyfawn replied. Whitefang ducked out from the small, cramped den. Glancing up at the sky, she recognized the growing storm clouds. They were darkening on the horizon, casting ominous shadows over camp. Whitefang shivered. _Shyfawn's probably right. Best to try and sleep now before the downpours. Those look laden!_

Whitefang made her way over to the warrior's den, but was intercepted by Swanmist.

"We never did get to finish our catching up earlier, mentor Whitefang!" The silver and white she-cat smiled. Whitefang rolled her eyes.

"I'm tired!" She protested.

"Oh, too bad. I already volunteered us for the night patrol along Riverclan's border!" Swanmist mewed cheerfully, "So we have plenty of time to talk before then!" She purred, sitting down.

"Night patrol?!" Whitefang squawked, "You do realize it's going to _pour_ right?"

"Yeah, so? You always said it was fun to patrol in the rain." Swanmist shrugged.

"Um, clearly you don't get _sarcasm_." Whitefang muttered.

"Oh, it'll be fun!" Swanmist smiled.

"Sure, sure." Whitefang mewed, "So what'd you wanna talk about?"

"Well, I was gonna say scouting was terribly boring. We just sat in trees. But I guess I was a lucky one," She said, glancing toward Darkclaw's "den".

"And? You wouldn't say you wanted to catch up if you didn't have news. I know you too well!" Whitefang prodded her sister teasingly.

"Fine. I was getting to the news." Swanmist grumbled good-naturedly, " Timbermask and I are trying again. For kits." She said.

"That's great! But are you sure you're ready?" Whitefang asked gently.

"I _need_ these kits, Whitefang. It's-it's like there's a hole in my heart. And it needs to be filled," Swanmist implored, while Whitefang looked at her confusedly. The warrior sighed. "You'll get it when you have kits."

"That's my news," Whitefang mewed firmly, thinking back to the Whitefang of old. Kits had destroyed her.

"I've decided I won't have kits. Or a mate. No cat would want me anyway, so why bother?" She said casually. Swanmist frowned.

"So untrue. There's always someone for somebody," _Not for Whitefang of the wolves_ "And you just have to find them." _I won't find one. I'm better off alone._

"Respect it, Swanmist." Whitefang huffed. Swanmist rolled her eyes.

"Whatever. You will be loved, Whitefang, I swear it." She giggled softly. The two sat in silence for a while; finishing the meal they had begun earlier.

* * *

><p>"It's time for the patrol." Swanmist said. Whitefang looked at the sky once again. She could've sworn it was midnight-the thick, dark clouds had gathered suddenly and plunged everything into humid darkness. As the pair stood and made their way over to where Bouncestrike, Kestrelwind, and Grayshadow stood, Whitefang felt the first drops begin to fall. Almost like the blackened stars were crying.<p>

**QOTD: What event do you think will mark the halfway, turning point of Whitefang's life? **

**I'm thinking about making the original Whitefang's story a oneshot. Should I? Or should you merely know the beginning?**

**You guys are gonna hate me. I'm sorry, but it has to be done. **

**Prepping myself,**

**-Bright**


	37. I Promised Vengence

**I'm so sorry.**

The patrol walked out into the darkness, heads held high. As she followed the waving white and silver swirled tail of her sister through the pouring rain, Whitefang decided they were a powerful group. Sharpcloud had joined last minute, eyes blazing, as if he were hoping to face off against the Riverclan scum that attacked Darkclaw and the others. Bouncestrike led the patrol confidently, every pawstep deliberate and proud. Whitefang had a feeling part of it was his knowing Cherrynose was back in nursery, curled tight around her rapidly swelling belly. It would be a many moons until she kitted, but Bouncestrike still strut about camp like a pompous peacock, as if his kits were already leader and deputy. Whitefang stifled a laugh. Swanmist looked happy, most likely thinking of her future with Timbermask. Whitefang still couldn't believe they could think about kits so soon after the miscarriage. Kestrelwind was quiet and hung toward the back, as if anticipating something large and menacing. Whitefang's pelt was a bit on end as well, given the recent attack. Grayshadow was arrogant and annoying as usual. She paid him no mind. All in all, she figured they were well equipped to deal with whatever Riverclan fish-faces were blown their way. Or so she hoped.

The rain fell hard and constant, splattering their pelts until each cat looked like a drowned rat, their fur straggly and clinging to their frames. Each drop was fat and round, but they tasted bitter as Whitefang caught them on her tongue. She frowned. _What disgusting weather_. She thought, marching through the boggy swamps to the border. Pine needles, shaken loose by the pounding rain, stuck to every inch of her pelt, and pinecones bounced off her head, making lumps the size of pebble. She growled. The cats were silent, each one contemplating something different, while Whitefang merely wished she were anywhere but there. _Stupid rain showers are always worst in Newleaf and Greenleaf._ She thought miserably.

Birds twittered from their dry, cozy hollows in trunks, and Whitefang envied them. No chipmunks scampered beneath the tall branches, and no squirrels quarreled among the leaves. The forest was eerily silent beside the sound of hammering rain. Soon, a distant rumble of thunder joined the cacophony of droplets. It pounded through the marshes, and Whitefang frowned again. _Thunder and rain, what's next, lightning? This is going to be the most miserable patrol of my life._ Mud coated her legs and the tips of her belly fur, and she was reminded of the time Swanmist has stepped in that steaming pile of dog dung. She almost called out to her sister, but thought the better of it. Swanmist had hated that. So she trudged on, the others marching through the mud and splashing her until almost every part of her glowing white pelt was a deep, dirty brown.

As they walked on in silence with only the sound of rain to keep them alert and awake, Whitefang found her thoughts wandering to Sunshine, Robinfoot, and the others. _What are they doing now, I wonder. Probably cuddled up in the warrior's den, dry and warm._ She thought. _How I wish I were back at camp._ Every step Whitefang took, her paws sank deeper into the sodden earth. She could smell nothing but rain and mud and pinesap, which clung to her paws and fur like a second skin.

Finally, the six cats reached the border. By that time, the rain was so thick and the skies were so dark Whitefang could barely make out the rest of the patrol. Very faintly, through the storm and roaring thunder, she saw Swanmist lean down to sniff the border markers.

All of a sudden, the air was alive with shrieking cats. Whitefang herself was bowled over, crushed into the mud by a pair of large, gray forepaws. Her senses came alive, taking in the scent of long stale water and fish and rain, the tang of blood in the air as it oozed from her shoulders, the taste of mud and sound of laughter and pain. She brought her hind legs up to pummel the stomach of her attacker soundly. The cat, a tom, roared with pain and anger as her claws left shallow slices along his stomach, and she took the opportunity to roll aside and leap onto his spine. Digging her ivory, mud coated claws into his back, she wrestled him to the ground. Though he was a fair bit larger than she, the Riverclan ambusher was not used to fighting such large, powerful she-cats. As she clung to his shoulders, he howled and bucked like a stallion. Whitefang ran her hind claws down his flanks and snarled, the tom now whimpering like a kitten. She let him go, and her ran off into the storm. Blinking stinging rain and grit from her golden eyes, Whitefang glanced around the border skirmish. No, this was no skirmish. This was a _battle_.

Grayshadow grappled savagely with a pair of small she-cats fighting side by side, matching each of their blows with grace. Beside him, Sharpcloud's golden pelt was stained with blood as he writhed beneath the hooked claws of a black and orange tortie tom. Bouncestrike was battling a duo ferociously, with Kestrelwind standing back to back with him, snarling at an opponent of her own.

Whitefang breathed deeply. _Swanmist?_ She thought anxiously, glancing around the darkness for the glowing pelt of her beautiful sister. The she-cat was battling a pretty black she-cat, their blows evenly matched. As Whitefang raced to help her sister, a blow caught her shoulder and she stumbled into the marsh, the scummy water-logged loam choking her. She gagged and felt eagle-like talons gripping her hind legs mercilessly. Turning round, she found herself gazing into the familiar fiery amber eyes of Shimmerstar.

"You!" She coughed, mud spraying from her torn lips, blood streaming from her battered shoulders.

"So we meet again, _Whitepaw_!" Shimmerstar grinned, digging her claws deeper into the muscle of Whitefang's hind legs. The warrior twisted around and slashed at the dark silver tabby's muzzle, leaving but three shallow scratches on her small nose. The leader laughed.

"You think you can-" Whitefang slashed across the tabby's beautiful face, leaving deep gouges on her muzzle.

"ARGH!" Shimmerstar screamed, blinded by pain, and she stumbled back into a sycamore. Whitefang lunged after her, seething, golden eyes flaring.

"You! You did all of this!" She screeched, swiping maniacally at whatever part of Shimmerstar she could reach. The silver furred leader held her ground, and Whitefang, despite her anger, was impressed by her foe's pertinacity. Whitefang lept on top of Shimmerstar and pressed the she-cat's face into the sodden ground. As the leader squirmed, she would grind herself deeper into the earth, until a boulder-like weight came crashing into Whitefang. Her vision swam as her head crashed against stone and her flank was torn open by ivory claws. She growled viciously and her forepaws scrabbled helplessly against the wall of fur that pinned her.

Then came the scream. So eerily familiar, it shook Whitefang's bones. But it was short. Final.

_Then, she was on the edge of the shadowy territory, looking over to glittering, sparkling water. The outlines of everything were undefined, and the colors melded together, as if determined to keep her location a secret. Whitefang felt pelts press around her, choking her, and the scream came again, shorter, and more final. Once again, through the shadows and haze, blood seeped through her thick white pelt, staining it crimson, she heard faint whispers, unmistakably words, and felt fury flood her heart._

_The dream!_ She screamed in her mind. Throwing off the weight and sodden pelt that was smothering her, Whitefang stood in the midst of the battle field, eyes wide. A huge ginger tabby tom's blue eyes flooded with horror as he gazed upon the body on the ground, and the crimson blood staining his claws. He scrambled back hurriedly, and dashed off into Riverclan territory. Whitefang dashed to the body, oblivious to the fleeing ambushers, eyes for only her sister. Her sister.

Swanmist's pale green eyes were wide and clouding, pupils flicking this way and that until they found Whitefang. Then those dark pools in the midst of sea foam green never left their mark. Her breath, coming with short, quick gasps, was punctuated with fearful coughs, blood trickling from the side of her jaw. Her stomach was split up the center, torn so badly Whitefang could hardly look at it. Blood pooled around them, flooding the already saturated ground, soaking into the white-based pelts and staining them ruby. Rain streamed over Whitefang and dripped into her eyes. She couldn't tell what were tears, and what was rain.

"Swanmist…" She whispered.

"It-it hurts…so much. Help me, Whitefang. Save me again…Oh, Whitefang," Swanmist coughed up blood, the red spurting from between her lips and trickling down her chin. Whitefang clutched at her, pulling her closer until she could feel her sister's heartbeat in her own chest. The tears flowed freely now, and her vision swam.

"Stay with me, Swanmist. Don't leave. Don't leave me! Swanmist!" She wailed, golden eyes welling up with tears. Swanmist's heartbeat was slowing, slowing.

"Don't leave me Swanmist…" Whitefang sobbed.

"Avenge me…" Swanmist whispered, voice hoarse as if she had gargled with broken glass. It cracked at the end.

"I won't…I won't avenge you, because you aren't leaving me!" Whitefang replied, voice soft.

"Promise…promise me, Whitefang…I need you to promise." Swanmist rasped desperately, eyes searching Whitefang's face.

"I will. I promise, I promise…" Whitefang murmured, voice wavering and tortured. Swanmist's eyes glazed over and her heart slowed to a nonexistent beat. The life left her veins and spilled freely onto the ground. Thunder crashed above.

"We won!" Whitefang heard Grayshadow yell, as if through walls. Her vision was hazy as her mind, she had eyes only for Swanmist. _Swanmist…_

"Whitefang! We won! What are you-SWANMIST!" Bouncestrike shouted, running to them, paws bloodied and slipping in red and brown mud.

"Swanmist!" Kestrelwind screamed, amber eyes wide as the moon itself.

"No!" Grayshadow howled. Whitefang was silent ,rocking back and forth, cradling her sister's limp head in her forepaws. _Swanmist, Swanmist, Swanmist…_

"Whitefang, Whitefang get up. We have to bring her body back." Bouncestrike whispered in the white warrior's ear, though his voice shook with sorrow.

"No! She-she can walk!" Whitefang hissed, "Come on, Swanmist. Get up. You can get up." She sobbed, nudging her sister's body gently.

"She's dead, Whitefang." Grayshadow meowed bluntly, voice stunted with grief.

"No! No! Swanmist isn't dead! She can't be dead! She can walk, she…can walk…" Whitefang wailed, prodding at what was Swanmist in vain.

"Whitefang, let's bring your sister home. She needs help to get home, Whitefang." Sharpcloud's voice pierced through the haze that was what remained of her thoughts.

"Home…Swanmist can walk…" She insisted desperately.

"Swanmist needs your help to bring her home," Sharpcloud choked.

"I-I will carry m-my sister," Whitefang meowed.

"Of course you will." Bouncestrike soothed.

"I-I promised her…avenge…I promised…she can't be dead." Whitefang stuttered, stumbling as Sharpcloud and Bouncestrike lifted her to her paws. Kestrelwind had sunk to the ground, body quivering. As Bouncestrike and Sharpcloud lifted the body to her shoulder, Whitefang shuddered. It was as if her heart had torn in two, and one half had been trampled and scarred by an army of warriors who knew no mercy. As she stumbled home, leaning on the shoulder of Sharpcloud and letting Bouncestrike share the weight of the body, her stomach twisted painfully. Her wounds burned as well, and the bitter rain merely stung them as it seeped through the clotted blood and tattered flesh. When they reached camp, no cat came out to greet them. They slid the body from their shoulders and for the first time, Whitefang saw her. Swanmist was gone, eyes lifeless, form limp, cold to the touch and without heartbeat. Her sister was _dead_. Her stomach knotted itself and unraveled, and Whitefang collapsed, retching through the horror of it all. As her stomach emptied, she dry heaved, wailing.

"NO!" She screamed, "NO! This can't be happening! NO! Swanmist, come back! I need you, come back!" She howled her misery to the inky darkness where no star shone, and where no moonlight filtered through the storm. Cats emerged from their dens, first warily, then all at once. Then there were the screams.

"SWANMIST!" Paledove shrieked, throwing herself at her lifeless daughter, wailing her grief to the absent stars as her daughter did. Stonetail rushed to the side of Whitefang, tears streaming, and the two huddled together beside the bloodied, battered corpse, watched as Paledove threw herself at the ground and lay upon the body, sobs wracking the gorgeous, slender warrior. Timbermask screamed his fury, his sorrow, and lay beside his mate as if he had died as well. Addershriek made no move to comfort his son; he knew as well as any cat that this would only earn him scars. Timbermask pounded the ground with his paws as Whitefang collapsed into Stonetail, too upset to utter a single sound. Paledove sounded like she was being strangled, writhing beside her precious first-born as if she were taken by poison. Shyfawn watched miserably; there was nothing she could do to ease this pain. The Clan watched silently, many tears falling and splashing to the ground like raindrops. Stonetail cried silently as well, watching the sky.

Thunder shook the earth as Starclan themselves wept the loss.

The sky truly cried tonight.

**I had to. Please don't hate me.**

**Lots of love,**

**-Bright**


	38. Even in the Rain Forever in the Darkness

**All of you seemed upset Swanmist is gone. I truly apologize, but it is essential. **

**And some of you seem surprised that the last chapter marked the halfway point of the story .I was merely estimating. It could become more, it could become less. We shall see.**

That night was ingrained, crystal clear, in Whitefang's mind. And she knew it would be for the rest of her life. The rain never slowed; instead it flowed long and hard as a waterfall, gushing as if never ending from the inky black clouds that shielded the stars she so desperately desired to see. The Clan hustled about her; Blueshine urged Paledove to rise up off of Swanmist's body. The grieving mother refused, of course. Shyfawn, in her quick, snappish, harried way, distracted the battle torn warriors from their grief and guilt by dragging them inside to treat their wounds. She did not bother with Whitefang. The pale warrior's pelt was washed a deep, glowing ruby from the blood of both enemies and kin, not to be rinsed by the ever-pounding rain. Her golden eyes were pools of grief, her body stiff and still as stone. She would not be moved. Stonetail sat beside his daughter, tail wrapped about her tightly, a sign of reassurance and empathy lost on the cold, empty frame. Whitefang's mind focused on one thing along.

_Swanmist is dead. My sister is dead. Her lifeblood stains my pelt and her words haunt my ears. I promised her. I will avenge my sister. My sister is dead. Swanmist is dead. _And so the cycle continued. It ran on repeat through her head, spinning wildly. It was clear how the others would remember Swanmist. Whitefang saw that very day she realized her sister was beautiful, far more beautiful than she'd ever be.

Standing in the sunlight against the backdrop of glimmering emerald leaving rippling in the Greenleaf breeze, reflecting her pale green eyes, her white pelt, swirled through with streaks of pale silver glowing as it was lit up by golden beams. She stood tall, proud, and elegant, tail kinked high above her slender, angled face. She was smiling. And she was glowing, much like an angel. She knew her clanmates saw that too. But that was all they would see. Whitefang would see her sister splattered with mud, prancing through the marsh like a young buck. She would see her sister snarling and spitting in the apprentice's den, or curled up with Timbermask as she kept her kits a secret. She would see Swanmist in the snow, losing blood beside three tiny burial mounds, or crouching beneath the cherry tree as she watched Stonetail and Goldenfrost. Finally, she would see her sister lying in the mud and rain in a pool of her own blood, eyes unfocused, pelt dull, breath quickening. She would see the faint trickle from the corner of her mouth, the frayed skin parting along her stomach. She would hear the dying whispers for the rest of her life. Her clanmates would never see it. It would haunt her dreams.

Even in the rain, forever in the darkness, Paledove wrapped herself around her beautiful daughter, her lifeless daughter, her pride and joy, her first-born, and wept throughout the night.

Even in the rain, forever in the darkness, Timbermask lay side by side with his beautiful mate, his loyal mate, his once upon a time, and his happily ever after, and howled to the stars until the break of dawn.

Even in the rain, forever in the darkness, Stonetail sat beside his beautiful daughter, his playful daughter, his beloved one, his cherished kit until the sun shone again.

Even in the rain, forever in the darkness, Whitefang mourned her beautiful sister, her best friend, her one and only, her constant companion, as she would until the day they reunited.

Morning came, and with it did the sun. A thin mist wrapped around the cats awake in silent vigil. The sobs had subsided as each pair of eyes ran dry and throats became course and raspy. Paledove stepped aside, Blueshine walking her son from the body, as the elders shuffled out to perform their duty to the Clan. Stonetail stood quietly, and added up his daughter. He closed her unseeing eyes before she was taken away to be prepared for burial. Whitefang watched, cold and unfeeling, thoughts chasing each other in circle as the scents of lavender and rosemary spiced the early air. Finally, Shyfawn was by the warrior's side. Gently, the tortie eased Whitefang to her paws, and guided each step to the medicine cat's den. Paledove did not watch her second-born's departure, nor did her mate, for their eyes were only on the daughter. Whitefang did not witness the preparation of Swanmist's body for the everlasting entombment. Shyfawn made sure of that. The white warrior would not be able to bear the sight of her sister in the ground. But, much to her surprise, Whitefang walked on her own to the body. In the few moments it had been, Swanmist's pelt was cleaned and groomed to perfection, glossy in the faint light, silver whirls shimmering. Her eyes were closed and peaceful, her fragile, lifeless frame wreathed in fragrant blooms. Whitefang touched her nose to her sister's.

"Good-bye," She managed. Paledove let out a dry gasp, and then buried her face in her mate's pelt as the body was heaved upon the shoulders of the elders and walked away. Timbermask watched through red, puffy eyes. Blueshine comforted him the best she could. To Whitefang's imminent surprise, no cat had said a thing to her. She made her way slowly back to Shyfawn, who brought her to the den. There, her wounds were cleaned and tended to, and she was fed and watered much like a sickly kit would be. She was laid down to rest in a soft, dry nest, and was groomed gently by Shiverpaw. As she was lulled to sleep by the softness of the strokes of the apprentice's tongue, Whitefang sighed. Her heart felt heavy. And she knew it would be for a long, long time.

* * *

><p>Whitefang woke to a pair of soft blue eyes in a pretty tortoiseshell face.<p>

"Hello," The voice whispered. Whitefang blinked but did not lift her head. She knew it was Cherrynose, her friend, speaking to her, but she did not care. Nothing in the living world mattered anymore. The cat she had loved was gone.

"Whitefang?" A deeper thrum sounded. A pair of amber eyes set in a black-furred face now joined the tortie. Bouncestrike. He mattered little as well.

"Whitefang, please," Cherrynose pleaded, "Please say something." Whitefang merely stared past them. There was a scratch on the wall of the den, in a large, half-rotten birch bough. She knew what it said. It read: _Get well soon! I love you!_ Swanmist had written it when Whitefang was in the medicine cat's den for her broken leg oh so many moons ago. _But soon, the entire branch will rot, and the word will disappear. Where will they go? _ She wondered, _Will they join Swanmist in the stars? Or are they merely words, long forgotten memories that fade and crumble with time? I wish they'd stay. They make me think of her._ She stared at them, as if willing her sister to appear and scratch another message upon the bedraggled old birch bough. But she would not. _Swanmist is dead_. She thought. It ran circles about her, much like Sunspot and Russettuft had when he brought them food. _Swanmist knew of them. I only shared that secret with her. My sister. Now, if they come back, they will not see Swanmist. My sister is dead._ She lay there, thinking, not realizing her visitors had left, defeated.

It was this way with every cat that came to see her. Stonetail, Waterfall, Duckflight, Stormpaw. All of them were shunned by her empty gaze, her stillness. Whitefang barely registered their presence anymore. _Nothing matters. IU should die, if nothing matters. At least then I will have Swanmist. We will race through Starclan together, just the two of us. No Paledove, no Timbermask, no Rainwing or Blueshine or Icegaze or Grayshadow. Just us, and endless fields and forests._

Whitefang knew grief ran in stages. She also knew the first stage was emptiness. Nothing mattered. It felt as if nothing would matter for a long time. Visitors, friends, would tell her that Stormpaw was doing well being trained by Dawnstrike. She knew, but she didn't care. She knew she should care, but she didn't. So it was for one moon. For one moon she lay in the medicine cat den, staring at scratches on a birch bough. One moon she spent remembering, and succumbing to the gaping hole she felt in her stomach that extended to her heart and mind. Eventually, she was prodded from this lonesomeness by Shyfawn. The medicine cat scowled. Whitefang noticed the graying whiskers on the she-cat's muzzle. She also noticed she didn't give a mouse's fart.

"You! You no good, lazy mope!" Shyfawn snapped, startling Whitefang out of her miseries, her reveries.

"What?! Lazy?! I'm _grieving_ or are you so insensitive as to not recognize the signs?" The warrior spat uncouthly. Shyfawn hissed.

"You spend an entire _moon_ in my den wallowing in self-pity! This is exactly what your sister," Whitefang flinched at the mention of her dead littermate, "Yes, your sister _Swanmist_ did when she lost her kittens! You know what you said to do? You said, go out! Go out and stay active! That helped her, didn't it? That's what Timbermask, and your parents are doing, isn't it?" Shyfawn growled.

Paledove had lay in the nursery, unresponsive as Whitefang for a week. But she had gone on. Timbermask and Stonetail had thrown themselves into their duties. Whitefang felt her heart clench. She had been the only one to fall into a pit of darkness that she could never claw herself out of. Nor had she tried.

"Get out there! I will not stand for your miserable slumps any more! Out!" Shyfawn snapped, pushing Whitefang from the den. The warrior snarled and spat ferociously as the medicine cat thrust her from her safe haven, but stopped immediately when sunlight dazzled her eyes. She stepped back slightly, blinking and shuddering at the suddenness of being thrust back into the world. But, as she knew they had to, her golden eyes adjusted and the clearing came into focus.

They were all staring at her. Dawnstrike and Mothwhisker were sharing a sparrow, talking quietly and excitedly over the tiny swell in the dusky brown she-cat's stomach. They stopped immediately and looked up at Whitefang. Icegaze, who had been playing with Fadingpaw and Stormpaw, who had gotten so big, halted and gazed blankly at the white warrior. As did everyone else. Whitefang could see they were wary, hesitant in approaching her. She knew how she must look to them, skinny and underweight, unkempt and torn apart. That's because she was. Being pushed into camp, Whitefang entered the next stage of grief. It was regret. Her stomach twisted painfully when she remembered how it had been Swanmist who had greeted her whenever she woke up, how it was Swanmist who had been by her side. And she knew she had expected to see her sister's bright, sunny smile as she emerged from the medicine cat's den. But she hadn't. _If only I had seen her earlier…If only I had fought Shimmerstar harder…If only we had more cats on the patrol…_ The thoughts ran through her mind like frightened rabbits. She stood, like a stunned deer, in camp, face contorting as she realized what she could have done. But her apprentice saved her.

"Whitefang!" He cried, dashing up to his mentor excitedly. Her heart warmed when he pressed his face into her mangy pelt. His purr awakened her.

"Hello," She mewed softly. _He's so much like I was when I was young…so much like we were. OH, Swanmist, if only I had…_

"Whitefang, I'm so happy to see you! Can we get back to training together soon? Not that I don't like Dawnstrike, but I miss you, Whitefang!" Stormpaw said hopefully.

"I don't know, Stormpaw…" She sighed. He looked at her seriously with his clover-green eyes. Far more studious and focused than his littermates, she remembered this gaze.

"Whitefang…it's not your fault. We all miss Swanmist, but you fought bravely and we know how much you miss her Whitefang. But what would Swanmist want you to do?" He asked.

_Avenge her._ She thought. _And I can't avenge her by sitting and wallowing._

"I-I know, Stormpaw. I'll go talk to Hollowstar. See if I can get my apprentice back." She smiled weakly. She knew it wasn't her fault. Stormpaw had eliminated her stage of regret. But she knew the next stage of mourning well, for the feeling was boiling through her veins.

Anger.

_Avenge me._ Swanmist had whispered, the blood trickling from the corner of her jaw, the breaths coming short and thin, her heart slowing to a shuddering halt. _Riverclan did this. Riverclan stole my sister's life. And I will avenge her._ Whitefang remembered her sister's attacker as a blur, a blur with clear, sky blue eyes. But she would remember him. And so she must work hard to get to the next gathering. _I must find him!_ She thought, blood boiling. The white warrior held her head higher, and strode proudly into the leader's den. Hollowstar sat, in deep conversation Stonetail. The toms' heads shot up as Whitefang entered. Stonetail's eyes lit up as well.

"Whitefang!" He exclaimed. He padded quickly to his daughter's side. Whitefang could see through his happiness, his eyes were dark.

"Papa," She smiled, pressing her face into his pelt. Then, she turned to Hollowstar.

"I would like to get my apprentice back." She said firmly.

"Are you sure you're ready to begin training again? I know it's wonderful that you're out of the medicine cat's den, but are you…okay?" The leader knew it was a stupid question. It shown clearly on his face. But he looked her squarely in the eye anyway. Whitefang knew she would never be okay. But sometimes, she needed to lie. _Avenge me._

"I'm fine. I would like to begin training with him today." She stated.

"Alright," Hollowstar said begrudgingly, "I'll alert Dawnstrike. He says Stormpaw has been doing well with his hunting, but his battle move need work."

"Thank you, Hollowstar." Whitefang smiled. Stonetail turned to her.

"It's good to see you out again." He murmured, licking her ear, "I was very worried."

"I know papa. It just…takes time, that's all." She replied, "I'll see you later." Whitefang padded out of the den, on a mission. _I will throw myself back into my warrior duties! I must, I must go to the gathering. I must find him. Don't worry, Swanmist. I will avenge you. I promise._

* * *

><p>"Now hold that stance." Whitefang meowed. She flashed back to her training sessions with Addershriek.<p>

_"Good form…" Addershriek meowed slowly, inspecting her positioning. Whitepaw was demonstrating the correct way to deliver the front paw strike. Addershriek made her freeze at the moment directly before the blow, so he could decide whether her form should be corrected. Whitepaw growled to herself. Her foreleg was cramping, and her haunches were seizing up. She figured she had held the position for so long, her claws would be permanently unsheathed due to muscle cramps._

_"You should try to keep your hind paws slightly further apart. It's better for balance, force of the spring-back, and over all agility." Whitepaw made to adjust her paws and Addershriek hissed, "No! Not now! Take mental notes! That way, next time, you will do all the moves perfectly the first time through! Understood?" Whitepaw nodded._

_"No again! Do not move, you'll disrupt your positioning! If I say 'Understood,' you say 'Yes sir,' Understood?" Addershriek groaned._

_"Yes, sir," Whitepaw hissed through gritted teeth. The pain was heightening. She resisted the urge to flex her claws, stretch, or even just collapse. __Show no weakness…_

_"Hmmm…" The dark tabby mused, "Next time, make sure to tuck your tail between your legs. It may limit your balance, but it protects you from sneak attacks from enemy warriors behind your back aimed at your tail._

_"But, uh, sir, isn't that a Thunderclan tactic?" Whitepaw asked._

_"Yes," He replied, "But any good move is still a move."_

_"Absolutely," Whitepaw agreed, accepting his reasoning. Addershriek smiled slightly._

_"Alright, you can relax now." He meowed, sitting back on his haunches. Whitepaw fought her body as it desperately begged to collapse. Instead, she stretched each limb and stood at attention, facing her mentor, mouth set in a determined line._

_"Again," She stated. Addershriek watched her as she raised herself once more to the battle position, adjusting herself so that her hind paws were further apart and her tail tucked. It was difficult at first, but soon she felt herself ease into the flow of the move. In the back of her mind, Whitepaw envisioned herself amidst a battle with Riverclan warriors._

Smiling slightly to herself, she knew what she must do.

"Stormpaw, pretend as though you are on the Riverclan border." The small, medium gray tom nodded, both white ear and gray ear twitching with anticipation.

"They're coming up from the mud, eyes glittering, pelts dark and sodden with mud and water. One lunges forward to get you and you-" She pauses, waiting for her apprentice to finish the sentence. He contemplated it for a few moments.

"I leap out to meet them, use a forepaw push to trip them, and jump onto the, guarding my belly." He meowed finally. Whitefang shook her head.

"You hesitated too long deciding. The warrior's already on top of you. What do you do?" Stormpaw thought quickly this time.

"I kick out at his stomach, catch him off guard, and roll out from under him. I use a forepaw swipe to catch his muzzle." He said, eyes shining.

"Okay, then, you hear a yowl-" Whitefang stopped midsentence. _You hear a yowl._ Swanmist's dying cry echoed in her mind.

_Then came the scream. So eerily familiar, it shook Whitefang's bones. But it was short. Final._

_Throwing off the weight and sodden pelt that was smothering her, Whitefang stood in the midst of the battle field, eyes wide. A huge ginger tabby tom's blue eyes flooded with horror as he gazed upon the body on the ground, and the crimson blood staining his claws. He scrambled back hurriedly, and dashed off into Riverclan territory. Whitefang dashed to the body, oblivious to the fleeing ambushers, eyes for only her sister. Her sister._

_Swanmist's pale green eyes were wide and clouding, pupils flicking this way and that until they found Whitefang. Then those dark pools in the midst of sea foam green never left their mark. Her breath, coming with short, quick gasps, was punctuated with fearful coughs, blood trickling from the side of her jaw. Her stomach was split up the center, torn so badly Whitefang could hardly look at it. Blood pooled around them, flooding the already saturated ground, soaking into the white-based pelts and staining them ruby. Rain streamed over Whitefang and dripped into her eyes. She couldn't tell what were tears, and what was rain._

_"Swanmist…" She whispered._

_"It-it hurts…so much. Help me, Whitefang. Save me again…Oh, Whitefang," Swanmist coughed up blood, the red spurting from between her lips and trickling down her chin. Whitefang clutched at her, pulling her closer until she could feel her sister's heartbeat in her own chest. The tears flowed freely now, and her vision swam._

_"Stay with me, Swanmist. Don't leave. Don't leave me! Swanmist!" She wailed, golden eyes welling up with tears. Swanmist's heartbeat was slowing, slowing._

_"Don't leave me Swanmist…" Whitefang sobbed._

_"Avenge me…" Swanmist whispered…_

"Whitefang? Whitefang! Whitefang, snap out of it!" Stormpaw was shaking her. Whitefang shook her head and moaned.

"Swanmist…" She meowed painfully.

"Whitefang, maybe we should hunt?" Stormpaw suggested cautiously. She looked at him. There was no way she could neglect the apprentice she hadn't trained in a moon. And this was only their second day ever training together! Whitefang nodded.

"Yes…hunting." she gasped for breath. Her panic attack…her flashback…she'd never had one so intense. _Block it out, Whitefang. You have a life to live. A sister to avenge. _

"Let's try by the sycamore."

* * *

><p>They returned to camp with mouthfuls of prey. Late Newleaf was being kind to Shadowclan, and Whitefang knew it. But her heart burned. <em>Swanmist is dead...I must find him.<em> She thought desperately.

As she set her catches down on the pile, she gazed proudly at Stormpaw. He had done very well hunting, and she had taught him the most efficient way to climb trees after squirrels. He had caught two that way. The young tom darted off to his sisters, who sat by their parents. Waterfall noticed Whitefang, and padded up o her.

"I'm glad to see you out and about," She purred gently. Whitefang smiled.

"I'm glad to be out." She replied. Waterfall looked at her former apprentice carefully.

"I-I know this must be hard for you…" She said softly. Whitefang exhaled heavily and tried to resist the urge to crumple. It had been one of the hardest days of her life.

"Waterfall…it's so hard…and all they do is stare." She whispered, glancing at her clanmates.

"They don't know how to comfort you, Whitefang. All this time…they thought you were jealous of your sister. They thought you wanted your sister gone. Dead. They thought of you as second best, and bitter because of it. It is just the way the wind blew." Waterfall explained quietly. Whitefang bristled.

"The wind did not blow by itself, Waterfall! It was pushed!" She snapped, glaring at Paledove. She was surprised to see that her mother was eating with her father. Their pelts were touching. She wanted to retch.

"Love, I don't know…no one knows why she did it. I don't think anyone ever will. But now…they see she was wrong. They saw how devastated you were– are –now that Swanmist is in Starclan. They don't know what to do. Give them time, Whitefang. Please." Waterfall murmured, licking her apprentice on the ear affectionately.

"I don't know if I can, Waterfall. I don't think it's possible to forgive the pain…" Whitefang trailed off.

"Just try. I know how good you are, sweet one. Open your heart." Waterfall advised, padding away back to her family. Whitefang watched her go, knowing her past mentor's words were wise. But her heart was closed. Those who made it through the wrought iron gates had passed long ago, and it was locked from the inside. There was no 'forgive'. There was no 'forget'. She padded up to her father, who looked up when he sensed his daughter's presence.

"Love," He smiled, "Come eat. How was your day?" He asked, inviting her to sit. Whitefang sat, but ignored Paledove. The pale silver she-cat did not look up from her meal. Whitefang was surprised: usually, her mother took any and every opportunity to make snide comments or kick dirt in her second-born's face one way or another. Whitefang took advantage of the silence, and began eating her squirrel. Stonetail watched the two she-cats on either side of him, and his golden gaze softened. They were his family. This was the first time in forever they had eaten together. Whitefang was stiff and silent. It _was_ the first time in forever. And she bet it would be the last once Paledove, she _refused_ to call her mother, got over the paralyzing grief caused by Swanmist's death. Whitefang knew _she_ would never get over it. Stonetail waited in the stony silence for something to happen. Nothing did.

Once Paledove finished eating, she licked Stonetail's cheek and leaned into him, watching the stars come out. Whitefang couldn't bear the sight of them back together. It sickened her. _Maybe this is the she has decided to punish me. _She thought. Pushing past them, she padded toward the warrior's den. A soft mew caused her to stop in her tracks. This voice had never spoken to her before.

"I'm…I'm sorry for your loss." The she-cat whispered. Mothwhisker was sitting outside the warrior's den with Dawnstrike.

"Thank you." Whitefang meowed stiffly.

"Stormpaw. He's a good tom. You're lucky to have him." Dawnstrike said gruffly. Whitefang thought it was supposed to be a compliment. She didn't stick around to find out. After nodding formally to each for their attempts at kindness, she disappeared into the den. As she lay down, the stale scent of Swanmist from her nest beside Whitefang's wreathed around the pale warrior. As she fell into fitful sleep, her sister's haunting memory wove itself into her dreams.

Whitefang knew it would never stop.

Not for the rest of her life.

_Avenge me._

**QOTD: Hope do you think Whitefang's coping is? What about the rest of the Clan's opinions on Whitefang?**

**This was a very long chapter to write, so I probably won't post again for a little while. Hopefully I'll manage to get something out around Thanksgiving break.**

**Any questions on this chapter or future chapters, feel free to put it in your review! I'll answer them all next time!**

**Hugs, kisses, and _promises_ of new updates,**

**-Bright**


	39. Find Him

**This chapter is short but sweet. Well, a little sweet. I love all of your comments in your reviews, it really makes me feel like I'm touching people with this story. And trust me, more feels to come. I'll have twisted your heart in knots by the end.**

"Whitefang!" Swanmist purred. She stood in the only patch of sunlight in the darkened clearing encircled by pines. She smiled, white face glowing, causing the streaks of silver to shimmer. Her pale green eyes flashes as the beams of golden light hit them.

"Swanmist!" Whitefang cried happily, dashing toward her sister. Purring, the pair embraced. Whitefang wrapped herself around Swanmist, too happy for words. She inhaled deeply, relishing the sweet scent, like honey and new blossoms. Her sister's fur was soft, without a trace of blood or struggle. Or death. Whitefang sighed happily into Swanmist's scruff.

"I miss you so much," The smaller warrior murmured to her sister. Swanmist coiled tighter around Whitefang.

"You won't ever let me go, will you?" She asked quietly, looking up and into Whitefang's golden eyes. They glowed brighter than miniature suns in the light.

"Never," Whitefang breathed.

"Good." Swanmist sighed contentedly, resting her head on Whitefang's shoulder. The pale warrior reveled in the presence of her sister.

But the sunlight vanished.

"Whitefang, it's dark!" Swanmist whispered frantically.

"Not afraid of the dark, are you, big sister?" Whitefang teased gently.

"Whitefang…it's dark. You've never felt the darkness." Swanmist gasped. The shadows seemed to be closing in on them. Whitefang bristled warily.

"I'll protect you. Don't worry." Whitefang murmured.

"Promise?" Swanmist breathed.

"I-" Whitefang began, cut off by a sudden shriek. Her sister's warmth was torn from her side.

"Swanmist!" Whitefang cried, turning around frantically. All she saw was blackness.

"Whitefang!" Swanmist shrieked.

"Swanmist, I'm coming! Swanmist, don't worry, I'll save you!" Whitefang called desperately, turning in circles.

"Whitefang! Whitefang Hel-" The terrified scream was punctuated by a raucous cackling. Whitefang ran toward the sound, but it was coming from…everywhere.

"Whitefang!" Swanmist's horrified voice seemed to echo off of invisible walls.

"Swanmist! Sister!" Whitefang howled, racing in random directions. She bumped into a large, shadowy shape with eerily familiar eyes. Burning amber.

"Shimmerstar!" She gasped. The figure cackled, in the same voice as before. She could not tell whose it was. Running in a different direction, Whitefang screamed her sister's name. There was no response. The darkness was silent now. She tried to call out again, but something smothered her voice, as if she were being gagged. This did not stop her. Whitefang choked and coughed but kept running. With a leap, she crashed into yet another figure. As it came into focus before her blurring vision, Whitefang gasped. Timbermask stood over her, leering, emerald eyes narrow.

"Fool! You think you can save her? No one can save her! She's gone!" His voice broke at the end, and his sneer became a sob. He faded away. Whitefang scrambled to her paws. The cackle sounded again, and it felt as if it were bouncing around in her skull. She fell to the ground and convulsed as the painful scree sounded for a second time.

"Get up! You must find her! You must find my daughter!" Paledove wailed. Whitefang opened her eyes to find her mother standing over her, crystal blue eyes focused on some point in the distance, filled with grief. As soon as the white warrior stood, Paledove glared at her.

"Out of my sight, you are not my daughter! Save my Swanmist! You promised her!" The former queen howled before dissipating like smoke. Terrified, Whitefang raced through the darkness before crumpling against the next cat in her way. It's mouth twisted in an ugly snarl, and a carbon copy of her emerged from the shadows. Blueshine and Rainwing spoke with one voice.

"You will never be as good as her! Find her! She must live!" They growled.

"Leave me alone!" Whitefang wailed, but it died in her throat as she was suffocated by the darkness. But she knew she had to save her sister. Before she could even begin her sprint through the inky black abyss, Whitefang found the next cat. But to her surprise, it was…Appleclaw. His cream pelt shone with some strange, inner light, and his Leafbare-blue eyes glimmered with welcome.

"Whitefang…" He meowed softly, "You're so beautiful, Whitefang. Stay with me. She's already dead." The she-cat pushed past her handsome friend and he too dissolved into the endless night. But as soon as she had left him, Sunshine, Robinfoot, and Fogfrost. They glowed as well.

"Stay with us, friend," They spoke in unison, "She's gone. There is nothing you can do."

_No, she's my sister! I promised you, Swanmist, I promised!_ Whitefang thought. She barged through the trio, shivering as the mist they became floated about her. She ran into others; Stonetail, Duckflight, Waterfall, Stormpaw, and even Barkpaw, though all said the same thing. They said it was too late. Whitefang refused to listen. Finally, the laughing began again. But this time, it was coming from a certain place in the darkness. She raced for it, with no cats to block her path. Swanmist's screams joined the cacophony of howling laughter, it's twisted, sharp, raspy tone sliced through by pure terror.

Whitefang reached the place, panting. All she could see was Swanmist. Lying on the ground, pinned by large shadowed paws, the she-cat wreathed and fought and screeched for her sister. The more Whitefang urged herself forward, the harder she was pushed away by a throng of invisible bodies. Invisible claws slashed at her pelt and pinned her to the ground, but she always fought her way back up, she always kept her eyes on her sister. All of a sudden, Swanmist was on her paws. She was battling and enormous shadowed tom, twice her size, larger than Whitefang. The pale warrior could smell the stench of fish from where she battled invisible foes, and she watched the pair behind the crowd duel. All at once, Swanmist was on the ground. Blood was pouring from where the anonymous attacker had sliced her stomach, and the clearing was filling fast. Whitefang desperately tried to claw her way through the writhing, squirming throng of cats to reach her sister. All she saw was a flash of horror in sky-blue eyes, and the figure was gone, scrambling back into the shadows. Fleeing his guilt. The barrier of bodies vanished, and Whitefang raced to her sister's side.

"Avenge me…" Swanmist hissed finally. She too turned to smoke in her sister's paws. Whitefang howled and found her voice had returned.

"SWANMIST!" She screamed. Those eyes seared her mind. Sky blue eyes. They were not the deep, knowing blue of Cherrynose and Duckflight, nor the clear turquoise of Shyfawn, and certainly not the shining Leafbare-blue of Appleclaw. They were the color of the sky. Not the robin's egg blue sky, pale and smooth. It was rich, the color of the sky on a cloudless Greenleaf day, where the birds sang as musically as anything, and other blues paled in comparison to the sweetness, yet the boldness, of the midday sky. Whitefang hated it. She hated their beauty. She knew that whichever cat owned those summer sky blue orbs would be dead soon.

_Avenge me._

"Whitefang! Whitefang, wake up!" Duckflight meowed anxiously.

"What is it?" The pale warrior asked frantically, leaping to her paws.

"You were crying out in your sleep again. Another nightmare?" The dark ginger she-cat asked cautiously.

"Yes," Whitefang grumbled miserably, burying her face in her paws. Swanmist's smile haunted her.

"At least…it's been a week, hasn't it? Since the last one, I mean." Duckflight offered. Whitefang nodded, not removing her paws.

"Yes." She said.

"And your panic attacks have gotten better, haven't they?" Duckflight nudged her gently.

"Yes." Whitefang agreed. It had been two weeks since the first one when she was out training with Stormpaw. Since then, there had been nine. First, it was two per day. They had gotten better.

"Good," Duckflight soothed, "Now, it's the middle of the night. Why don't you go back to sleep?" She suggested.

"I don't think I can." Whitefang meowed, unable to shake the vision of her sister's stomach being torn open. _I promised…Avenge me…Avenge you…I promise…_Her thoughts were scattered.

"I think I'll go for a little walk. Just to clear my head." She cringed slightly at how much like Swanmist she sounded. Swanmist before she lost the kittens.

"Alright."

"Goodnight." Whitefang murmured. Stepping carefully over her clanmates, wary of disturbing them, Whitefang made her way outside the den. She was taken by surprise when a sudden burst of heinous coughing erupted from Darkclaw's makeshift den. Shyfawn emerged from it, and, even in the inky, purple-blue darkness of pre-dawn, Whitefang could tell the medicine cat was exhausted.

"Shyfawn," She called out softly. The tortie looked up. Her turquoise eyes were dark.

"Whitefang. I was just about to come looking for you." The medicine cat mewed darkly.

"Why?"

"Darkclaw…he's dying Whitefang." Shyfawn said sadly. Whitefang bristled, both with horror and indignation.

"Why come to me?" She snapped out of surprise, "Why not Hollowstar first?"

"Because you know," Shyfawn rasped. Whitefang stood, still and silent. Her heart pounded furiously.

"He-he told you? H-how did he know I-I knew?" She stammered. A pale brown face flashed in her mind.

"A white pelt is not easy to conceal in treetops, Whitefang." Shyfawn said bemusedly before turning serious again, "I told him he's dying."

"You told Darkclaw he's _dying_?" Whitefang spluttered.

"I had to. I cannot save his. His wounds will not heal, and are infected. He is sick, with a Greenleaf fever I don't know of. He is dying. He has one final request." Shyfawn said solemnly. Whitefang looked into her eyes.

"Find him." She whispered. Shyfawn nodded.

"Darkclaw needs to see his son before he leaves for Starclan." She said, "I will tell Hollowstar where and why you left."

"Wait-I'm supposed to find him?" She gasped.

"Yes." Shyfawn meowed simply, "And if you hurry, maybe he'll be able to see his father. And don't worry," She added as Whitefang opened her jaws to protest, "I have plenty to keep your apprentice busy with." The white warrior closed her mouth and nodded mutely. Turning, she mewed:

"If I do not find him before nightfall, I will stop looking. There is no point in traveling so far." She felt her heart break a little at the thought of her best friend vanishing over the long-distant mountains of lore.

"Be safe," Shyfawn whispered.

"I'll try." Whitefang mewed quietly. She padded away from the center of camp, past the dying warrior, and out of Shadowclan's camp into the sleeping forest.

"This must be done." She told herself softly, "And maybe, just maybe, Barkpaw will come home."

**Cliffhanger much?**

**QOTD: What/where do you think she will find Barkpaw doing/living? Will she find him at all?**

**Remember, all questions you have will be answered by me if you put them in a review of PM me!**

**Love y'all so much and this was a short chapter and quick update. Won't see either of those soon, sorry! Next update will be WCC, then maybe a little Great Divide or Whitefang (original) oneshot! **

**-Bright**


	40. Yara

**This chapter is so freaking long it's like almost 4,000 something words. I was gonna split it up, but it flt wrong when the next chapter's so momentous.**

Whitefang sniffed the air. Though it had been many, many, many moons ago and the trail left by all three of them was long gone, she remembered it perfectly. It was fresh in her mind as what she ate last night, as her sister's death, as her father meeting Goldenfrost beneath the cherry blossoms in the moonlight. Some things she knew would never leave her. She had, many times before, felt the stages of grief, but they had never clutched her as strongly as now. Rage, and a thirst for vengeance surged through her veins. She hated Paledove for her cruelty, and Stonetail for taking the monster back into his nest with love. She hated Barkpaw for leaving, and she hated Darkclaw for lying, and now dying without being able to face his spun tales of bravery for his cowardly son. She hated Goldenfrost for dying and leaving Stonetail alone; she hated her clanmates for being oblivious and uncaring. She hated her friends for being far away, and she hated Swanmist for leaving her. She _despised_ her killer. The tom with the eyes the blue of a Greenleaf sky with no clouds. It fueled her; it was the only reason she kept going. And yet, through the haze of anger and pain, she fostered a small spark of hope.

Hope that Barkpaw would be just as she remembered, sweet and kind and innocent. A friend. She hoped that Stonetail would realize what a terror Paledove is. She hoped for her friends to comfort her and be there forever. She hoped to see Swanmist again. She hoped to avenge her sister. She hoped, no matter how far against the warrior code she had to travel, that she would be able to avenge her sister. That was all that mattered. Everything else was like background noise when one is trying to find the voice of one bird amongst the chorus. Nearly impossible, but her pain pushed her onward. She would find him; she knew it. If she had to search to the ends of the territories and back, she would find the tom that murdered her sister. But right now, she had to retrieve her best friend. _Barkpaw will help me._ She thought. _His father is dying, Swanmist is dead, he must too feel the rage. He will help me. My best friend will come home._

Whitefang reached the point where the forest met twolegplace. She remembered perching in the trees, listening and watching, heartbroken, as Barkpaw, or Leo, whatever he had decided, left. She remembered her heart cracking. She remembered what he said.

_"Shadowclan is your home!" She heard Darkclaw rumble. Barkpaw's voice was softer, and less easily heard._

_"It isn't, father. You and I both know that." Barkpaw murmured._

_"Barkpaw-" Darkclaw began, only to be cut off by his son._

_"My name isn't Barkpaw." He meowed. The dark warrior was taken aback._

_"Of course it is!" He said forcefully, and a little fearfully._

_"Mother named me Leo," Barkpaw mewed, "I remember."_

_"You were a little kit. She said I could take one. You had the most promise." Darkclaw meowed, his voice tender with memories._

_"So I have siblings?" Barkpaw asked eagerly. Darkclaw regained his gruffness._

_"Starclan only knows what those twolegs did with them. I had to take you away, son. It was for your own good. Now come home, and let's forget all this nonsense." He growled._

_"I can't go back. I'm no warrior. You should've chosen someone else." Barkpaw snapped, turning away._

_"You are a warrior! You are a Shadowclan warrior and you will return right now!"_

_"You can't make me go!"_

_"You wanna bet?"_

_"Leave me alone!"_

_"Get some sense!"_

_"Listen to me!"_

_"You are coming home with me and that's final!"_

_"I hate you!" Barkpaw screamed, "I wish anyone else was my father!" Darkclaw stumbled backwards. Whitepaw flinched at the power of those words._

_"Barkpaw…" Darkclaw whispered, "You are my son, and I love you. What will I do without you? You're my last family…my only connection to Sofia. Please, Barkpaw. Leo, son, please." Darkclaw pleaded._

_"Father," Barkpaw cried. Tears welled in his eyes. "I have to leave. I-I love you but I can't go back."_

_"Please," Darkclaw mewed desperately._

_"No. I'm going home to mother. I know why you named me Barkpaw, father. Mother lives on Bark street. I'm going home to her, but I'll always love you." Barkpaw padded up to Darkclaw and nuzzled him. Darkclaw pulled his son in close._

_"I'll miss you. I'll miss watching you grow, and learn. I'll miss knowing that you're there, and that I can protect you. I can't do that here." The dark tom sighed._

_"Then come with me," Barkpaw said hopefully._

_"No. Shadowclan is my home. And it will always be yours too. If you ever come back…I'll welcome you with an open heart."_

_"I'm no warrior father. Maybe they were right, and I am a kittypet. Or maybe I'm a loner. Or even a rogue. Either way, I'll miss you." Barkpaw whispered. He removed himself from his father's embrace and walked away. Both Whitepaw and Darkclaw watched him disappear._

_"Goodbye Leo…may Starclan light your path," She heard Darkclaw murmur._

It was as if the scene had occurred yesterday. If Whitefang imagined hard enough, she could smell each of them on the breeze, see their figures in the setting sun, each pelt bristling and flattened in the breeze. _Bark Street._ She thought. _What is a street?_ She wondered. _Is a street an animal? Is it some sort of twoleg thing? Is a street a type of twoleg? I must ask. _She padded forward cautiously, looking at the quiet maze of thunderpaths set between twoleg dens. She wondered if any kittypet was out this early. _I hope the monsters are not awake._ She frowned, taking another cautious step forward. _Or the dogs. I need to find him._ A distant bark of a dog sounded, along with the garbled shout of a twoleg. Whitefang lept up, and dashed forward in fear. Bolting across the thunderpath, not caring whether the cool, gritty surface tore at her paws, she darted into a bush that sat beside a twoleg den. Breathing quickly and shallowly, Whitefang crouched in the safety of the thorny shrub.

She peered out warily, as if awaiting certain danger. The air was still and silent aside from her frantic breaths. She waited for a kittypet to emerge. After a few minutes of silence and impatient tension, she hissed. _The sun is rising and still no kittypets. Lazy. I must go out and look for them without attracting any attention from twolegs. I wonder if they are early risers. _Creeping out from beneath her sheltering shrub, Whitefang's golden eyes flashed as she glanced around the empty thunderpath. A large, skinny, gray, leafless tree stood at its end, topped with a single green rectangle. It was most certainly not a leaf. It had strange markings on it. _I have never been this close to anything Twoleg-like before._ Whitefang thought nervously. She exited the bush entirely, and slowly walked down the side of the quiet thunderpath. She would sniff the air periodically, shooting quick looks at each den, tail high and alert. _Where are you kittypets?_

"Hello?" She called softly. There was no echo, no greeting. "Hello? Anyone?" She called nervously.

"Hello!" A voice sounded from above her. She whipped her head up to find a bright golden tabby pelt and pair of curious amber eyes staring down at her. She shrieked and lept back.

"Oh, I frightened you!" The cat mewed. Whitefang shivered in her pelt before realizing her fear was irrational. This cat seemed to be barely two moons older than her apprentice; Stormpaw was only seven moons old. This she-cat would be a young apprentice as well.

"No, I am just…unused to this place. Twolegplace." Whitefang mewed briskly, smoothing her flustered pelt and quivering whiskers.

"You mean the neighborhood?" The golden tabby asked curiously.

"Neighborhood? What is a neighborhood?" Whitefang inquired.

"Where are you from?" The tabby mewed. Whitefang frowned.

"It isn't polite to answer a question with a question." She replied brusquely.

"Oh well." The young cat shrugged, "My mama said it isn't polite to ask questions when you haven't been properly introduced."

"If I recall correctly, you asked the first question!" Whitefang bristled. The little kittypet was starting to get to her. It's eyes sparkled.

"Well, then I'm Yara," She grinned, "And who are you?"

"Another question," Whitefang muttered, "I am Whitefang."

"A funny name," Yara giggled, traipsing about the top of the fence.

"I don't usually associate with _kittypets_." Whitefang sniffed disdainfully, turning away. _I'll find some cat who'd more helpful and less childish. _She thought primly.

"Kittypets?" Yara questioned, "You mean cats who live with upwalkers?"

"Upwalkers, twolegs, whatever you call them." Whitefang snapped. Yara frowned.

"You mean to say you don't live with housefolk?"

"Of course not! You think I'm a pompous, soft she-cat who stoops so low as to live with those who destroyed our first forest?" Whitefang hissed, ears flattening. Yara held up a paw.

"Hold on, you don't live with upwalkers. So who feeds you? Where do you sleep? Where do you go when it rains?" She mewed hurriedly, eyes wide.

"I feed myself. I sleep with my clanmates. We live in the forest by the lake." Whitefang replied, words short and sharp.

"Clanmates?" Yara inquired.

"Yes. I live in a group of wild cats. We are called Shadowclan." Whitefang snapped, "Any more stupid questions? I'm a little busy."

"You don't seem _busy_," Yara drawled, "You seem _lost_." Despite her casual manner, Whitefang could tell the young she-cat was dying of curiosity. She decided to use that power.

"We do not usually venture from the forest. I am looking for someone." She meowed airily, coating her voice in shadows of mystery. Yara leaned forward slightly on her fence.

"Looking for who?" She asked pleadingly.

"Oh, you wouldn't know him..." Whitefang said dismissively, "I might as well be on my way."

"Please! Who are you looking for? I can help! I know _everycat_ around here!" Yara mewed enthusiastically.

"Well..." Whitefang frowned, "You're a little young...this is an important mission from my _leader..." _She lied.

"What does he look like? What is his name? C'mon, Whitefang!" Yara whined. The pale warrior decided her name sounded strange coming from the mouth of a kittypet.

"He is brown," She mewed at first. Yara made a face.

"Many cats are brown." She huffed.

"With darker legs, ears, and tail. His eyes are green. His name..." She hesitated, "is Leo." Yara's amber eyes widened and her pelt bushed.

"What?" Whitefang asked.

"You don't want to find _him_." Yara spat venomously, "He isn't worth your time. Filthy alley scum!" She growled.

"And why not? What does this tom mean to _you_?" Whitefang meowed stubbornly, surprised.

"He's my brother." Yara snarled.

* * *

><p>"What?" Whitefang hissed in shock.<p>

"You want nothing to do with him." Yara growled, "Trust me."

Your brother?" Whitefang repeated.

"Yes. Though it doesn't make me happy. Far less so mother." Yara meowed, the anger gone from her voice now, relaced with a miserable sadness.

"Sofia," Whitefang breathed."

"How do you know my mother's name?" Yara asked suspiciously.

"I know your brother, don't I? Take me to your mother." Whitefang meowed.

"Why should I? You want to find _him_." Yara protested.

"Clan business. None of your concern." Whitefang snapped, "Now take me to Sofia!"

"Mother won't be happy. The Clans make her sad." Yara said stubbornly.

"Take me!" Whitefang insisted.

"Never!" Yara yowled.

"Take me. I have news she needs to hear." Whitefang snarled.

"Why should I trust you? You never said she would _want_ to hear it!" Yara argued vehemently.

"You have to trust me." Whitefang mewed quietly.

"Fine. But I don't like it." Yara snapped, "And if you hurt my mother-"

"The last thing I would do was deliberately cause pain to the mother of my best friend." Whitefang whispered, voice cracking.

"Best friend?" Yara asked, tone softening slightly.

"Your brother can't have changed so much. He was the most sweet, loyal, friendly, understanding tom I ever knew." Whitefang explained softly.

"You are describing a completely different cat than the Leo I know." Yara meowed darkly. Whitefang frowned. It wasn't right for such a young cat to hold so much anger and pain in her heart.

"When I knew him, his name was Barkpaw." Whitefang meowed finally, "And I miss him as I do my own littermate." They walked in silence for a little while, as if Yara were contemplating whether to ask about Swanmist. Whitefang could tell. She remembered the curiosity she held at that age, bridled only by her mentors and the warrior code. Sh remembered how she would mull over a question in her mind longer the more important it seemed, while the silly ones flew from her mouth and landed her in trouble with Rosedust. She had learned to control them by the time she was given to Addershriek, though Waterfall had always encouraged her thirst for knowledge. The only sound as they padded through the maze of thunderpaths and twoleg dens was their paws on the rough ground and their soft breaths in the morning air. The sun was quickly rising into the sky, turning it all sorts of lovely dawn colors. Whitefang wished she were viewing from a dawn patrol of the clearing of camp instead of the midst of a 'neighborhood' with a feisty kittypet, sarching for her best friend. _He can't have changed that much. _Whitefang soothed her addled mind. _He will be my Barkpaw, I know it. Yara does not know him like I do. He-_

"You have a littermate?" Yara asked quietly. Whitefang, startled from her thoughts by the young cat's voice, replies hesitantly.

"I did."

"What happened to him?" Yara wondered. Her tone was cautious. _As it should be._ Whitefang growled to herself as the pain of loing her sister hit her yet again. The morning had left her with no time to remember Swanmist. Now, it all came back. The hurt, the regret, the anger. Oh, th anger. _Avenge her..._

"Her. Her name was Swanmist. And she was murdered." Whitefang said bluntly, trying to ignoe the throbbing of her heart. She felt Yara shiver, though the she-cat was in front of her.

"That's a pretty name." Yara whispered finally.

"Yes. It is. And I will kill the tom who murdered her, I promise you that." Whitefang said firmly. Yara turned her head, and bore into Whitefang with her amber eyes.

"Is a murder always solved with a murder? Or does compassion count for anything in the forest?" She asked suddenly. Her voice was steely. Whitefang scowled.

"Compassion is for the weak, Yara," The she-cat's name felt strange in her mouth, "Only the strong survive in the forest."

The trip was silent.

* * *

><p>The pair eventually reached a blue twoleg den. I was small and cozy looking, compared to the rest of the dens on that strip of the thunderpath. It had a pretty garden in full bloom, with many flowers, neat little shrubs, and small trees beside tall hedges. The door was yellow. Or, at least, Yara said that weird thing was a door. There was a small flap in the door, large enough for a cat but too small for much else. The flash was heavy, but the right weight for a cat. Yara called it a cat door.<p>

"Only mother, my brother Dolan, my sister Addie, and I live here. And the upwalkers, of course. There are two of them, a female and a male. They're both very old. Their kits are all grown up and have kits of their own. They visit sometimes. The little ones are very grabby. The older little ones, they're very nice. They like to play." Yara explained as she psuhed through the cat door. Whitefang followed after her, on high alert.

"Don't worry. The upwalkers are out today. They're always out today." Yara reassured Whitefang. She grunted.

_Great Starclan, don't let this be a terrible mistake._

"Mother! Dolan, Addie! I'm home!" Yara called loudly. There was a pattering of pawsteps that seemed to be coming from above, and all of a sudden, two cats appeared out of an large hole. Yara called it a doorway. Whitefang bristled nervously.

"Hey, Yara-belle!" The she-cat purred. Her pelt was a soft pale brown and she had white paws. Her eyes were amber like Yara's.

"Who's that?" The tom asked curiously. He looked to be a fair bit older than Yara and Addie, who seemed about the same age. He was more around the age of Cherrynose and her littermates. _Could he be from Barkpaw's litter?_ Whitefang wondered. The tom, Dolan, was large, but not as large as Whitefang. She dwarfed the trio. Dolan was handsome for a kittypet, Whitefang decided. His eyes were a darker shade of amber than his sisters', and his pelt was golden tabby like Yara's but his face, chest, stomach, and legs were pure snowy white. Whitefang looked at her own pelt, which seemed to be a dull, dingy brown in comparison to their cleanliness. Each kittypet wore a collar of pale blue with a little golden bell on it. Whitefang examined Dolan a bit more closely. Yes, she could see family resemblance. Both he and Barkpaw had short fur, angled faces, and slightly crooked tails. Dolan cocked his head in a similar way to Barkpaw, which Yara did too. Addie had his smile. Dolan's yes were the exact same shade as his father's.

"Whitefang! It's not polite to stare." Yara snapped.

"Sorry. I can just...see the family resemblance. Between you and your brother. And you," She turned to Dolan, "Have your father's eyes." The tom took a step back warily.

"I've never met my father. How do you know him?" He asked.

"Show me to your mother, and I have a story to tell and news to share." Whitefang stated plainly.

"Sofia!" Dolan called.

"Doofus! Do you not remember? She kitted last night!" Addie hissed, smacking her brother on the head.

"Sorry." Dolan muttered, flashing Whiteang and Yara a sheepish grin. Addie rolled her eyes. Yara stifled a giggle.

"Come on." Addie mewed softly to Whitefang. They were all very curious about this stranger, who claims to know a brother of their and their father. The four cats ran up things the kittypets call stairs, and made their way into a dark, small room in the den. Whitefang was instantly reminded of the nursery. She thought longingly of Cherrynose sleeping in the cozy warmth, and wished she was beside her friend. But instead, she was in a twoleg den.

"Mother, someone's here to see you." Yara mewed softly. Whitefang made out a pale golden pelt in the dim lighting. A pair of wary, tired golden-amber eyes peered out at her.

"Who are you?" Sofia whispered. She wrapped a fluffy golden tail around the four kittens at her belly. Whitefang took them in before answering. Two were dark torties, and one was a mottled gold and brown. The last one was pure black. Whitefang knew instantly whose they were. Her heart sank.

"My name is Whitefang." She murmured. Sofia's gold/amber eyes widen and fill with wavering tears, threatening to spill.

"Why are you here? How does Shadowclan know?" She whispered, voice raspy and scared.

"I am not here on behalf of what shadowclan knows. It is what they do not know that I am here for." Whitefang said gently. Sofia did not relax.

"What-" She began, but Whitefang could not meet her eyes.

"No! No!" Sofia gasped, burying her head in her paws. Whitefang hard the bell on her collar jingle. Her heart plummeted. Yara glared at her.

"You said you wouldn't hurt her!" She howled.

"What did you do? What do you mean?" Addie wailed. Dolan looked at her. His eyes were dark.

"My father. It's something about father." He said, voice empty and dull.

"Yes." Whitefang breathed. Sofia sobbed.

"He is dying." She whispered. The pale golden she-cat shook with grief, but she raised her head.

"You deserve to know everything." She rasped, "I needed to know. Thank you." Whitefang nodded.

"I didn't want to bring the news. And, truthfully, it was not you I'm supposed to find." She mumured, glancing at Yara who spat on the floor.

"She needs him. Leo." The young she-cat growled. Sofia cried again.

"My son..." She whispered, "How much he has changed. And Darkclaw..."

"Darkclaw fought nobly, but his wounds are too great. Starclan is calling him, Sofia." Whitefang soothed.

"These four are his," She murmured, "As are Sylf and Dolan and Leo. I love him, Whitefang. And he made me believe." She looked up into the eyes of the white warrior, "Starclan is watching over us, I know it. And someday I will see him there. I sent...I sent Leo there to be with his father. It did not work."

"Sofia, you tried. And while he was in Shadowclan, he was my best friend. I must find him. He needs to see Darkclaw." Whitefang said.

"Yes. Yes he must. Dolan, Yara, show her to the alleys. Addie, stay here. I don't want you running into Snake again." Sofia ordered.

"Snake?" Whitefang asked.

"Whitefang, you're making a mistake. These kinds of cats are those who cannot be trusted." Dolan said darkly, "If you find Leo, you will not recognize him. He has changed."

"For your father, I have to," Whitefang meowed firmly, "And Barkpaw will come home."

**Where are all my lovely reviews? Did you die? Fall off the face of the earth? I miss you! :( Bt thank you oh so very much to those who reviewed. I love y'all! Let's make it to 600!**

**QOTD: What do you think she'll find in the alleys?**

**Hugs!**

**-Bright**


	41. Dead to Me

**I'm warning you, this may be a little...harsh.**

"Here it is." Dolan mewed. The young tom stared out at the darkened alleyway malevolently.

"Are you sure you want to go in there?" Yara asked.

"Yes. I must." Whitefang replied, raising her chin.

"Good luck." Yara said darkly, amber eyes casting a harsh glow over the blackened street. Whitefang knew that now, that a thunderpath was a street. She was far more familiar with the words of twolegplace than she would have liked. "Dolan? You coming?" The golden tabby she-cat asked. Her kit-fur bristled when her older brother shook his head.

"I can't let Whitefang go in alone." The tom mewed regretfully, as if he would've much prefered going back home with his sister.

"I'm fine! I don't need help!" Whitefang wanted to snap, but she held her tongue. Don't be ungrateful. She scolded herself.

"Alright. Be safe." Yara sighed, turning away and padding off, "Don't let them try anything on her, Dolan."

"I won't." The golden and white tom assured her, moon-pale face shining in the halflight, "Trust me, Yara."

"I do!" The golden tabby called over her shoulder.

"Do you trust me?" Dolan asked, looking at Whitefang seriously. She narrowed her eyes. Do I trust you, a tom I just met, with, supposedly, my life? Do I trust you, son of my clanmate, brother to my bestfriend?

"Of course." She replied.

"I guess we should head in then. Don't say I didn't warn you, Whitefang." Dolan mewed forebodingly. Her name no longer sounded strange coming from the mouth of a kittypet.

"I guess we should." She said, steeling herself for what awaited them. He can't have changed that much. She thought.

They began walking through the alley. Almost instantly Whitefang felt claustrophobic. the tall walls of near adjacent buildings towered over her, their brick sides threatening to shut out the faint dawn sky's light. Though it wasn't dawn anymore. If anything, it was approaching midday. Shadows cloaked their pelts as the pair made their way further into the menacing unknown, and with every step Whitefang felt the tension in the air rise. Beside her, Dolan's muscles tightened. He wasn't to plump for a kittypet, she decided. The space grew narrower, and soon their pelts were pressed together. They came to a small space at the end of the alley, no larger than the warrior's den and just as dark. A building's wall stood ahead of them,with a tiny gap in the wooden planks. Just big enough for a cat. Dolan pushed ahead of her, soft, clean, pampered pelt glowing as the sun's beams crept through the slender space between the two roofs. His collar bell twinkled merrily. Whitefang scowled. It reminded her of the company she kept at home, the cats who would scorn her situation. Shaking it off, she tuned into Dolan's voice as he spoke.

"-and I'll go first. Stay by me." He finished. Whitefang nodded, not bothering to ask him to repeat what he had said. It couldn't have been that important. She watched as the golden and white pelted kittypet squeezed through the hole and disappeared into the blackness that awaited her. Taking a deep breath and channeling her Shadowclan warrior, Whitefang crept in after Dolan. I'll find him. She thought. And I'll bring him home.

It was far lighter inside the building than she expected it to be. That could be attributed, of course, to the multitude of cracks and gaps in the walls and ceiling. Sunlight streamed through, illuminating the bustling scene. Whitefang almost wished it was dark. The scene was not stunning. Cats tussled on the ground, and not in a friendly way. They were snarling, their moves violent and sloppy. She winced as a pair rolled past her paws: she could smell the grime that surrounded them, and the blood in the air. Almost every cat she saw was emaciated or scarred, with some kind of bitter, twisted look. She herself gained many looks. And she did not like what she was attracting. Grimy toms crept forth, eyes alight with something strong and dangerous. She-cats stayed to the side. That was something else she noticed. The she-cats stayed back, mouths and faces contorted into ugly grimaces, those brought on by jealousy and spite. They sat in groups, clustered together.

"What is this place?" Whitefang whispered to Dolan, hardly concealing the disgust in her voice. He frowned as he answered her.

"It's called the Sanctum. Any grubby street cat that calls themselves vermin find their way here. As well as any cat that doesn't belong. It's definitely not much. Hardly any food or shelter in a place like the Sanctum."

"What does its name mean? Why come here if it's so terrible?" Whitefang asked, confused.

"It means sanctuary, but it isn't much of one. And cats with no other choice come here. The only way to survive is to work your way up to power. The only way to have power around here is if you have access to prey, shelter, followers, and she-cats." Dolan spat.

"But-" Whitefang began. Dolan's look silenced her.

"You don't trust these cats, Whitefang! The toms are greedy and the she-cats are selfish. No one decent lives in the Sanctum. Not unless you have nothing to lose." He growled. Then, his amber eyes widened.

"Sharice!" Dolan called. A pretty, slender black she-cat with a glossy but dirt spattered coat raised her head. She was in the corner, talking to another she-cat, a small plump russet-furred one. Whitefang caught the spark of recognition in her gaze as she spotted Dolan. She made her way over.

"Dolan! What are you doing here?" Sharice asked quickly, quietly. Her gaze was furtive; she kept glancing back and forth as if she were being watched.

"I could ask you the same! I thought you were staying with Rudy. You know, your mate?" The golden and white tom hissed in disbelief.

"No. Not anymore. Rudy couldn't give me everything I need, Dolan. Everything I deserve," Sharice glared, "What brings you here anyway?"

"Rudy couldn't give you what you deserve? I never thought you were like that Sharice. Like them," The tom gestured to the other she-cats watching their exchange from their huddles, "And I'm here strictly on business. I guess you got what you deserve, though. Living here." He growled.

"Business? What business? Starting your own purdah here in the Sanctum? Already won one?" Sharice hissed, glancing at Whitefang, yellow eyes like daggers.

"No!" Dolan snarled, "Now whose purdah do you belong to, huh? Snake? Chudo?"

"No," Sharice sniffed disdainfully, "I was offered a place by someone higher. As a right flank."

"Oh, a right flank! Some honor!" Dolan mewed, voice dripping with sarcasm. Whitefang tried to follow. She could not. There were so many new terms to understand.

"It is! Being the chosen she-cat is an honor!" Sharice glowered.

"Aw, shove a rag in it, Sharice. I only want one thing from you. Where is my brother? Where is Leo?" Dolan snapped.

"He doesn't go by that anymore." Sharice spat, "And why do you even need to see him? Bring him her?" Sharice glared at Whitefang jealously.

"Whitefang has business to attend to with him." Dolan meowed. Sharice's yellow eyes narrowed further.

"What's in it for me?" She asked suspiciously.

"Nothing. You already live in the slums. I couldn't possibly make it worse." Dolan meowed. Whitefang was impressed with the young tom's authority. Sharice shrunk back and glowered.

"He's in the back. Biggest purdah always gets the best spot." The black she-cat muttered.

"Bring us to him." Dolan demanded. Sharice groaned and beckoned them with her tail as she began to weave through the crowds of the Sanctum. Whitefang ignored the strange looks and leaned in to whisper to her companion.

"What was all that? I didn't understand a single thing, except that she's despicable and you want to get out of here." She breathed. Dolan chuckled.

"You've got the jist of it." He replied, voice low.

"But what's a purdah? A right flank?" She asked.

"A purdah is a tom's group of she-cats. He wins them in fights, claims them, or offers them places or things. Or he steals them. A right flank is the tom's main she-cat. His favorite."

"Who would choose her?"

"Clearly no one important. Rudy gav her everything. I never knew she was like this. Like them."

"And what is this about him having another name?"

"The cats around here always change their names. To seem stronger, mysterious, desirable. I never know for sure."

"This place bothers me."

"I know. You're tense."

"You are too."

"But I've been here before."

"Why?"

"Addie was stolen by Snake for his purdah. I came to get her back with a couple of friends."

"Ahhh." Whitefang replied. She could tell Dolan hated being here. She knew she had to make this as quick as possible. And succeed. Sharice had led them to a dark, hidden corner of the SAnctum, where only a single beam of light shone through. It smelled of many cats. As her eyes adjusted, Whitefang noticed twoleg pelts strewn about the floor of the building, lumped together. They were all different colors. It was warm in here, and dark and smelled of old lavender. It was so sweet, Whitefang gagged. Sharice had disappeared from sight. Whitefang glanced around and realized-the twoleg pelts weren't scattered at random. They were nests. And there were cats in them. But Dolan was ignoring the nests filled with she-cats, while the she-cats were clearly eyeing the pair. Dolan's red/amber gaze was fixed on the center of the room. Lying atop an enormous pile of multicolored pelts was a tom. Whitefang barely recognized him.

His pelt was a deep, glossy hazelnut brown, his legs, muzzle, ears and tail an even darker shade. His slitted eyes were deep green, his whiskers long and neat. His tail twitched lazily as the she-cat by his side groomed his pelt lovingly. She was a sight, with a pelt the deepest shade of crimson shot through with streaks of golden-amber. When the light hit her pelt, it shone like a thousand sunsets. Her eyes were closed, but when she opened them, they were a stunning pale gold like sunshine. She must be his right flank. Whitefang thought. She followed Dolan as the golden and white tom climbed the mountain of pelts to reach his oblivious littermate and his lover.

"Ahem," He coughed when he reached the top. Leo-Barkpaw, or whatever his name was now's eyes shot open. His mate's golden orbs fixed themselves on the young tom. "Leo." Dolan meowed. His voice shook, be it with anger, hatred, or fear Whitefang could not tell. But it was powerful.

"Dolan," Her friend drawled. His voice was deeper, lower than it had been. It was stronger too. Far more confident, with a tinge of impatience and a low throb of arrogance. Whitefang scowled. "What brings you here to the Sanctum? I thought we had nothing further to say to each other." The brown tom's green gaze flitted from his brother to Whitefang. The warrior sensed no recognition in their depths. Her heart sank.

"I'm here on business, Leo." Dolan hissed through gritted teeth. His brother drew a lazy paw over his left ear and inspected his claws.

"I do not go by that name anymore. I don't wish to hear it any longer." He said slowly.

"What would you prefer then, oh great one?" Dolan mewed, voice slippery and smooth as butter, eyes narrow as alleyways.

"I am known now as Alpha." He replied. His eyes were on Whitefang now. "I see you brought a friend."

"Yes." Dolan said stiffly.

"Well, she's not much to look at. Her eyes are nice. What do you think, my dear?" He turned to the she-cat lying beside him. The crimson-furred she-cat's voice was soft as silk when she replied:

"Don't you have enough?" The brown tom laughed.

"Oh, one can never have too many, love. Tell me, why did you bring her if not to offer her to me?"

"She is the one who wants to speak with you. You are long dead to me." Dolan growled. His brother's eyes narrowed.

"I see. What is it, then?" He asked Whitefang. Reluctant to give her name, the white warrior met his gaze evenly, summoning her strength.

"You know me," She said simply.

"Do I?" He asked.

"Yes. From long ago, but you know me. I've missed you." She said truthfully. The pain in her chest grew when he blinked blankly.

"I don't remember seeing you before," He meowed, "Tell me, are you another one night stand? I've had many before this purdah. Any kits I should know of?" His tone was snarky, as if he couldn't imagine loving someone like Whitefang. Her pain fell away. Whitefang felt only anger. She snapped.

"You coward!" She snarled. His mate started and glanced at Alpha nervously. Whitefang continued, not to be dissuaded. Dolan took a step back.

"You're nothing but a filthy coward! You abandoned me! You abandoned all of us!" She howled, claws unsheathing, "You do not know how much pain you caused me! Or how much pain you caused him! You do not know how we've all suffered!" She screamed, "I hate you! You tear his heart apart and he makes you a hero! Now you have the nerve to lie here and pretend to be someone else!" Whitefang slashed her claws across his face. The tom stoppd.

"Who are you?" He asked, voice a low hiss.

"You know who I am, you coward." Whitefang whispered, "You have to remember your best friend. You promised you'd be there for me in the morning, Barkpaw. You never came home." His green eyes widened and he fell back into his nest. Whitefang felt the air go still.

"Whitepaw?" He asked, stunned. She glared at him.

"My name is Whitefang." She growled. Suddenly, fire returned to the brown tom's eyes.

"Why are you here? I never wanted to see any of you again! That part of my life is over! I am Alpha! Who is Barkpaw? This is my home! I have no best friend! Get out of my sight!" He thundered. Whitefang stood her ground, eyes brimming with tears. Every cat in the room was watching them now.

"They're all gone, Barkpaw." She whimpered, "Swanmist is dead. My sister is dead. Your father is dying, and this is what you say? I know you loved them, Barkpaw, you always had. Come home!" She pleaded. His eyes were dark.

"Swanmist is dead, good riddance. Darkclaw is dying, and yet somehow I do not feel the pain." He meowed bluntly, "Leave."

"You loved her," Whitefang rasped, "Don't you have a heart? My sister is gone, dead, murdered. Your own father is dying from the same Riverclan claws. There is always the part of you that is Barkpaw. Who is Alpha? All I see is a coward, who hides behind she-cats and his own selfish desires. The cat I see before me is a lie. You don't deserve to die a hero!" She cried, lashing out at him again. This blow struck his cheek, and the blood welled up quickly.

"Where are your warrior skills? Huh? Show them! Prove to me one part of you ever existed! Was our friendship a lie?" She yowled, dealing another blow to his shoulder. The tom stumbled back, tripping over his mate cowering beneath him.

"Was any of it true? Were you ever so sweet and loyal? Did you ever love her? Tell me!" Whitefang roared, tears flooding her face and flying as she swung an clawed at his muzzle.

"Whitefang! Stop!" Dolan called out, grabbing her scruff.

"You don't deserve to live!" She howled, spit spraying from her muzzle as she lunged at her former friend, held back only by Dolan. The brown tom was still, gaze empty.

"Whitefang, stop! You're going to kill him!" Dolan shouted over her wild sobs.

"No! Let me! Coward!" Whitefang screeched.

"Let him live with himself, Whitefang! Let's go, come on." The golden and white tom mewed gently as the warrior collapsed to the ground.

"Barkpaw...you're heartless. Dead to me. Nothing more than city scum." Whitefang hissed finally as she dragged herself to her paws and followed Dolan down the mountain of pelts. Her former friend watched her leave silently, bleeding.

She never looked back.

**Next chapter she'll be back in Shadowclan, don't worry. BTW thanks to Brightfur for all those great reviews! Really made my day! :)**

**QOTD: What did y'all think of Barkpaw and the Sanctum?**

**I know all of you Barkpaw fans out there are probably a little pissed, but I can explain. He felt lost in the Clan, and he felt lost outside of it. He blames them for making him miserable. He used that anger and pain to rise through the ranks of the Sanctum, and his bitterness was why his family couldn't recognize him as the cat they once knew. He grew greedy and lustful, soon surpassing all of the other toms with his grand purdah because of his need for control, something he never had in the Clan. He doesn't know what to do when the one cat he thought would understand his pain began attacking him.**

**Goodnight (for me, at least),**

**Brighteyes :)**


	42. Quarter

**This chapter is sooooooooooooooooooooooo long OMG before I added this author's note it was literally 4, 939 words and by the time I put one at the bottom too it'll be like 5,000. Good lord. But thank you for all your reviews, I love them ever so much! **

**For all those wondering, Barkpaw will never appear again. Whitefang is done with him. She is completely and utterly _infuriated_ with that infernal tom and his new lifestyle. As one of you put it ever so eloquently, Barkpaw is indeed a pimp. Moving on!**

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><p>Whitefang sat beside Darkclaw, beaten and battered. His rough breathing and glazed eyes no longer tore at her heart. She was cold as stone. Whitefang could feel nothing. Her best friend had rejected her and his family. She couldn't feel anything. Grief for Swanmist no longer ripped through her body, making her gasp for air. No more was she weakened by regret or by suffering. <em>I am Whitefang. I am strong.<em> She thought coldly, _I am Whitefang. I am proud. And I am angry._ Fury was lodged in her heart, the place where Swanmist and Barkpaw one stayed. But it was not heated rage, oh no, this was cold and calculated. Whitefang knew exactly what she had to do. _Avenge me…Avenge me…_ Those words spun round and round and round in her head, her sister's body swirling in the darkness and pouring rain, thunder crashing in her ears. _Avenge me…Avenge me…_Those blue eyes swam before her, clear and hollow, as unfeeling as her own heart.

When she had returned from her mission empty pawed, she had not run to Stonetail, nor to Shyfawn. She had gone to the medicine cat den and told her that Barkpaw was not coming home. That he was never coming home. He was dead to her and to the rest of Shadowclan. Hollowstar was with them, his green gaze saddened, pools of regret. Whitefang was still and silent. Now, she waited for Darkclaw to wake. She would tell him…she did not know what she would tell him. _How do you tell a dying father that his son is not coming home? That his son no longer cares for him? That he will never see his four new born kits?_ She did not feel the sadness she ought to feel, nor the regret or pain. Whitefang was furious. _Coward!_ She screamed silently, imagining her claws tearing through his flesh. _No, no. I don't want that. Let him live with his own mistakes, like Dolan said. Dolan, Yara, Addie, Sofia. Those kits too…never to meet their Father, or stepfather, whatever he is to them. I know Sofia would come if she could._

"Whitefang…" A voice sounded through the clouded haze that was her mind. Shyfawn was standing at the entrance, her turquoise gaze confused, "There's someone here to see you." She murmured.

"What?" Whitefang asked, voice empty. There was no spark of hope left that Barkpaw would return. She knew better now. He had changed. Yara was right. She rose to her paws, glancing at Darkclaw. He was in so much pain…_Starclan be kind and take him now. Don't let him suffer like this!_ She thought. She exited the makeshift den and breathed in the fresh air.

"Whitefang, is he in there?" A small voice asked. She started, surprised to see the soft white face and red-amber eyes peering out at her from the twilight-purple clearing.

"Dolan?" She spluttered, "What-h-how-what are you doing here?"

"I came to see my father." He said simply, though his gaze betrayed his pain. _So young, too young to be thinking about death and suffering. And yet, so am I._ Whitefang thought bitterly.

"Come in." She sighed, "He'll be glad you came." Her clanmates watched them curiously, suspiciously. Whitefang knew all too well Shadowclan did not like strangers, and did not take kindly to those who were different. She ushered Dolan in quickly. When the tom's eyes laid upon his sleeping father, and his pelt felt the burning heat of the fever, and he saw the pus and blood oozing from long-infected wounds, Whitefang was surprised to see him so calm, so accepting.

"So this is the life you lead Whitefang?" He whispered.

"It is an honorable life, Dolan. You haven't seen the good. There is so much good…" the pain returned in a sharp stab before Whitefang pushed it away. "Darkclaw," She meowed, "Your son is here."

Almost instantly his eyes flew open, though they were clouded over and barely able to focus.

"Barkpaw?" He rasped.

"No, not Barkpaw, father. Barkpaw is not here. My name is Dolan. I am your son." Dolan murmured, sitting beside the dying old tom, and pressing his soft, golden and white pelt to his father's ragged, dark tortoiseshell fur, clumped with disease. Dolan did not flinch.

"He has your eyes." Whitefang said softly.

"Indeed he does," Darkclaw mused, coughing, "I'm g-glad you c-came. There is so much…I would like….to tell you."

"Don't hurt yourself." Whitefang advised.

"Don't be a f-fool, Whitefang. I'm dying. I might even be dead, I can't t-tell for anything. If I use m-my last breath speaking to my son, i-i-i-it will be enough for me…" The warrior breathed. Whitefang dipped her head respectfully and backed out of the tiny den, leaving father with son.

"Who is he? Where is he from?" She was bombarded by questions.

"His name is Dolan. He is a kittypet from twolegplace. He is Darkclaw's son. He is Barkpaw's brother." She explained. She was exhausted.

"Where is his mother?" Waterfall asked fretfully.

"Caring for her latest litter. They are Darkclaw's as well. She can't leave them. They're not even a day old." Whitefang sighed.

"Traitor!" Icegaze hissed.

"Shut up! Don't speak about a dying clanmate in such a way!" Frecklestep snarled, "He gave his life to protect us, or did you forget?"

"He's cute!" Fadingpaw giggled, nudging Shiverpaw who nodded after a moment of hesitation.

"Well, he isn't staying!" Snapped Dawnstrike.

"Who said he was?" Growled Grayshadow in agreement.

"He is my nephew and you will treat him as such!" Hollowstar hissed.

"I don't feel safe with him here." Mothwhisker whispered gesturing to her swollen belly and Cherrynose's as well.

"Do you trust him, Whitefang?" Bouncestrike asked. She nodded.

"He saved me from myself." She whispered.

"If Whitefang trusts him, that's more than good enough for us!" Cherrynose exclaimed, putting her tail over her mate's shoulders. A few cats nodded with agreement, and, to Whitefang's surprise, Timbermask was one of them. Paledove said nothing. Then, Dolan came out of the den, tears welling in his eyes.

"He's dead!" The tom wailed. The Clan hushed and Hollowstar bowed his head before padding into the den, Featherfall at his heels. Rosedust followed her brother and his mate quietly.

"It's alright Dolan." Whitefang soothed, "What did he say?"

"He-he told me what it was to be a true warrior, Whitefang." Dolan murmured into her shoulder, "And I think…to honor his memory…that I'll be a warrior, too."

"You don't have to do that! Do what you want!" Whitefang said quickly. Dolan jerked his head up and met her startled gaze.

"It _is_ what I want, Whitefang!" He mewed desperately, kit-like almost, in his pleading.

"You'll have to speak with your uncle." Whitefang sighed. Her head was spinning. "I'm going to bed." She darted to the warrior's den and fell over into her nest, not daring to open her eyes. The world was spinning, changing around her, and she couldn't keep up.

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><p>Dolan was now Lightpaw, a fitting name for his bright pelt similarly sunshiny disposition. Whitefang enjoyed watching him train with Fadingpaw and Stormpaw, and he was coming along well with his battle moves: he had the reflexes and instincts of his father. Unfortunately, he was not as adept at hunting. Dolan lacked the patience and focus to bring down prey, which exasperated his mentor, Blizzardpelt, to no end. Fadingpaw and Stormpaw both had real knacks for it, and surprisingly Timbermask and Whitefang tolerated training with each other and their apprentices. Their apprentices truly enjoyed training with Lightpaw, who was fun, and funny, and determined. He had brought life back into Shadowclan; every cat loved him. Whitefang was proud. She still tried to stifle her emotions, but it became difficult. On occasions rage and grief would blind her and cause her to double over with overwhelming pain, but usually Whitefang was happy. But she was focused. She needed revenge. Nothing would distract her from that.<p>

"Whitefang, are you coming?" Stormpaw's voice rang out from the clearing. She was jolted from her thoughts as she looked up and saw her apprentice; tail waving, standing beside his sister and Timbermask. Surprisingly, the brown tabby had been quiet these past few sessions. She wondered why. Rising to her paws, Whitefang padded over to the trio, purring.

"So you're the one ordering me around now, hm?" She asked teasingly. She had been training Stormpaw for two weeks. It had been one since she returned from twolegplace with Lightpaw.

"No! No, of course not! I wasn't, was I?" The young gray tom asked Timbermask and Fadingpaw. The brown tabby chuckled.

"No, you wouldn't _dream_ of it." He grinned. Whitefang laughed. She liked this new Timbermask far more than the old one. This wasn't to say she trusted him. She still held a special dark place in her heart for all that the warrior did to her, but she couldn't truly hate him, or avoid him. Her sister loved him.

"Let's go. No more dillydallying!" Whitefang exclaimed, herding the apprentices out of camp. They happily obliged, darting off to the training hollow with wild abandon.

"Isn't it nice, seeing them so happy?" Timbermask asked. Whitefang nodded.

"Shadowclan has been so different since Lightpaw came. He truly seemed to bring the sunshine with him." Whitefang sighed pleasantly. Her friend, yes, she called him her friend now, he was nearly as close as her and Cherrynose. Maybe even more so, given their shared experiences.

"I didn't trust him at first," Timbermask admitted, "But he's grown on me. You did well, Plainkit." Whitefang bristled and glared at him, only to find a teasing light in his emerald eyes.

"Don't!" She snapped.

"Prickly today, eh?" Timbermask grinned.

"Stop it." She growled.

"Okay, okay. I overstepped. I'm sorry." He mewed truthfully. Whitefang tried to relax, but her shoulders had tightened. Those words brought up memories and emotions she wished would stay buried.

"Yes. You did." She hissed. Walking faster, Whitefang made to catch up with the apprentices. Timbermask raced after her.

"I said I'm sorry!" He growled.

"Yes, well, does that make up for moons of my life spent under your claws? I think not!" Whitefang snarled.

"Whitefang! I am sorry. You're Swanmist's sister. I should respect that. I was just trying to have some fun. Truce?" He offered.

"A truce with the one who chased off Barkpaw, who turned my sister against me, who tormented me? Never! I can't believe I could have tolerated you for so long! Weeks!" She ranted, pulling away.

"Whitefang, please!" He whined.

"You sound like a blubbering kit. Stop it." She snapped.

"Fine." He growled. They walked in stony silence the rest of the way to the clearing. Stormpaw and Fadingpaw were waiting impatiently for their mentors. When the pair arrived. Fadingpaw bounced up and down with anticipation, and Stormpaw frowned. Something wasn't quite right.

"Alright, you two. Back to back. I want you to practice the duck and swipe technique." Whitefang said brusquely, taking a seat on the sandy ledge above the clearing. Timbermask sat beside her stiffly. The apprentices obliged, standing back to back, and each walked four paces in opposite directions. Whitefang watched critically as they turned around. _Stormpaw could be a bit faster at that._ She decided, watching her apprentice study his opponent. _But his patience is admirable._ The gray tom ducked as his sister suddenly flung herself at him, and swiped at her as she sailed overhead. He missed, unfortunately, but his form was good. As Fadingpaw landed in a jumble of fur and dust, Timbermask shouted:

"Keep going! Don't give up! Remember your stance!" Whitefang sat silently. She remembered training with Addershriek, and how his silence had unnerved her, and yet allowed her to focus. She knew Stormpaw was a quiet tom. She knew he was smart. He would understand why she wasn't calling out to him. She watched as Stormpaw lept at his littermate as she was untangling herself, and the gradient gray she-cat could barely dodge his attempted strike. She hurtled after her brother, and landed on his back; the two struggled for a while before Whitefang spoke.

"What is this, kit fighting? I wanted to see the duck and swipe, not wrestling. Again." She demanded firmly.

"He started it! He attacked me when I was down!" Fadingpaw called up.

"Do you expect your enemy to let you get up in the middle of battle before he attacks? No! Stormpaw was correct in his movements. You will try the move again." Timbermask said authoritatively. Whitefang glanced at him. He met her gaze, emerald eyes hopeful. She scorned him defiantly.

_I'd rather befriend Tigerstar!_ She thought angrily. Distracted, she didn't realize that apprentices had finished the second round. Stormpaw lay, defeated, beneath his proud sister.

"Very good, Fadingpaw!" Timbermask called, causing the she-cat to swell with happiness.

"It's alright, Stormpaw. Next time!" Whitefang said to her own apprentice. The clover green eyes met hers and looked at her questioningly. She understood at once.

"Break!" She announced, leaping down into the clearing to join her 'paw. He hurried to her, shaking the dirt and grass from his pelt.

"What am I doing wrong, Whitefang?" He mewed in distress. She laughed.

"You haven't even been an apprentice for a moon and you're already getting frustrated? Come now, Stormpaw, chin up. You'll get it. Everything takes practice." She smiled. He sighed.

"Okay. I just don't want her to beat me! She'll brag to mother and father! And then father will just send another complaint in to Hollowstar about you. I don't want another mentor!" Stormpaw whined, looking pleadingly up at Whitefang. She bristled.

"And you won't get one1 I'll see to _that_!" She snapped, "You just need to be a bit quicker, Stormpaw, that's all. Once you grow into yourself it will be easier, don't worry. And watch the hips. Everything's in the hips." She advised before stalking back to the ledge. Timbermask was already waiting.

"What's got you looking like you just jumped in a wasps nest?" He mused.

"Icegaze! That infernal tom! I'll show him! At the gathering tonight…I'll-I'll-" She growled, stuttering with anger.

"You'll do what?" Timbermask asked.

"I don't know! Something drastic!" She exclaimed. Then, she realized who she was speaking to, and Whitefang snapped her jaws shut. _Not another word to this fiend, Whitefang you idiot!_ She scolded.

* * *

><p>As she padded through the darkened forest by her father's side, Whitefang reflected on the past moon. So full of pain and sorrow. Only one moon ago, she had been prancing side by side to the island with her sister, and laughing together with the Thunderclan warriors. Only one moon. <em>So much has changed,<em> she thought sadly, _And yet so much stays the same._ The birds were still silent in the dusky night, warm air wafting about her pelt, bead of swell collecting between her shoulder blades and sliding down her spine. _It's any other Greenleaf, and yet it's not. Not without her! Swanmist, I wish you were here with me!_ She thought desperately. Behind her, the apprentices whispered loudly, sharing tales of training and their voices full of wonder and excitement about the gathering to come. She remembered being so young and innocent. It would never be the same. She would never be the same. And yet Swanmist would never grow a moment older. Lightpaw's voice carried up to her spot beside Stonetail:

"How many Clans are there again?" He asked excitedly. She fought back a chuckle. The tom was far more excited than most: it would be his first time seeing cats other than Shadowclan. Whitefang smiled. Not cat had had to set a paw on the battleground where Swanmist had died, for after that fight Riverclan had crept back into the weeds where they belonged. _Murderers_, she snarled to herself, _Filthy fish-breaths!_ Soon, the patrol halted and Whitefang blinked. They were at the island already.

"You ready, love?" Stonetail asked. It was his first gathering without his other daughter as well. Whitefang's heart sank, and she forced herself to ignore the emotion. _Be strong, be brave, you are Whitefang._ Timbermask walked ahead of her, head low, and she felt sorry for him. No matter how much she despised the tom, Swanmist had loved him. Does that not count for something? Is the kits had lived, Swanmist would be safe in the nursery now. Whitefang remembered her dream. Her sister's kits would've been beautiful. She pushed that away too.

"Ready as I'll ever be," Se replied to her father after a while. He nodded. Whitefang was glad Paledove hadn't come. The she-cat had been ignoring Whitefang far more lately, but the snarky comments had subsided, for which she was glad.

"You'll find your friends and feel better, sweetheart, I know you will." He reassured her. Just the thought of Fogfrost's haughty tone and Robinfoot's soft voice, Appleclaw's warm gaze and Sunshine's pep made her heart ache. But it was a happy ache. Soon, though, it turned sour as she realized they would ask where her sister went.

"I guess." She murmured. Shadowclan plunged onto the island, following the dark tortie streak that was Hollowstar. Whitefang immediately scanned the crowd for Thunderclan. Always timely, her friends had spotted her and waved her over eagerly. She dashed to them, purring.

"Hey!" She exclaimed, reaching the group.

"Hey yourself!" Sunshine grinned, patting an open patch of grass beside her, while Appleclaw gestured to a place beside him. Before she could choose, a large gaggle of gossipy Windclan she-cats settled down, pushing their small group closer together. The spot was now between both her friends. Whitefang smiled as she sat down, feeling the emptiness that was where Swanmist should be by her side acutely.

"How are you?" Robinfoot asked pleasantly.

"Where's your pretty sister?" Fogfrost joked. Whitefang gulped.

"Swanmist-she is u-um…she's dead." Whitefang whispered, not meeting their eyes.

"No!" Robinfoot gasped.

"I bet it was Riverclan, those mangy, stupid, ugly-" Sunshine snarled.

"Are you doing alright?" Appleclaw mewed softly, pressing against Whitefang in a comforting way. She sniffed, holding back the tears. She tried to push everything back.

"Not really." She breathed.

"It's alright, Whitefang. You've got us." Fogfrost smiled reassuringly. It was the first time she had heard sincerity in the pompous tom's tone.

"Thanks," She purred, "I knew I had you. It's just...hard."

"It's alright, I understand," Sunshine smiled slightly, eyes dark, "I lost my dad when I was really little. It was tough. The best thing to do is just let go." Whitefang nodded, but her heart hardened. _Let go when my sister was brutally murdered in an ambush by a traitorous Clan? I don't believe I can, or ever will. _

"Yeah, probably." She agreed out loud, "So, what's new with you guys?"

"New kits expected!" Robinfoot grinned, nudging Fogfrost. The silver tom puffed up proudly.

"Birchrunner moved into the nursery last week! Not happily of course, but it's so exciting! I'm going to be a dad!" Fogfrost meowed. His green eyes glowed with happiness.

"Oh, that's great!" Whitefang purred.

"I hope they all look like her!" Fogfrost gushed, "I want them all to have her fur, they'll be so cute with matching cream tabby pelts, and her eyes, of course. Amber eyes are beautiful!" Appleclaw rolled his eyes and glanced at Whitefang amusedly.

"That's all he ever talks about. And every word Birchrunner says is: I hope they all look like him!" He chuckled. Whitefang laughed.

"So cute!" She giggled.

"I must feel nice to be in love and to be loved in return…" Appleclaw mused. Whitefang shook her head.

"Love is too dangerous! You never know when you'll get your heart broken. It doesn't even have to be your mate. It could even be your best friend…" She thought back to Barkpaw and his lovely flame-colored mate. She felt her heart twist at the closeness they would never share again, "You can't afford to love anyone." She finished.

"I don't think so," Appleclaw argued, but he was cut off by a deep voice.

"Is there room for one more?" Whitefang found herself staring at Timbermask. The tom's emerald eyes were questioning, lonely. Whitefang resisted the urge to snarl and send him away.

"Stop bothering me, Timbermask! Go sit with your lovely _sister_." Whitefang mewed coolly. The tom's face betrayed his hurt.

"Whitefang, please-?"

"I said _stop it._" She snapped. Beside her, Appleclaw bristled.

"Who are you?" He asked brusquely, his usually warm blue eyes turning icy.

"No one!" Whitefang said at the same time Timbermask replied: "A friend."

"Who is this, Whitefang?" Sunshine asked pleasantly, ignoring the blatant tension.

"Timbermask. Swanmist's mate." Her throat choked up as she said it. Appleclaw sensed something was wrong, and his tail curled around the pale warrior, who brushed it away suddenly. His closeness to her seemed to leave her suffocating. Sunshine shot Whitefang a look, and her orange gaze said _Let it go._ Whitefang couldn't risk losing a friend.

"Fine. Truce. Sit." She grumbled through gritted teeth. Unexpectedly, the light brown tabby wedged himself in between Sunshine and Whitefang, looking about at them.

"So you're all Whitefang's Thunderclan friends," He meowed without a trace of scorn in his tone, "Swanmist told me much about you." Whitefang groaned inwardly as he proceeded to flatter her friends and they introduced themselves. Of course, being Timbermask, he could whip out the charm and send even a precocious, mated she-cat like Robinfoot head over paws. She scowled. No wonder Swanmist had been stuck to his side like pinesap. As they talked, Whitefang looked around awkwardly, feeling uneasy with such bad memories clinging to the tom beside her. All the Clans had arrived, now, and she spotted Hollowstar in a heated exchange with Shimmerstar. The pretty tabby's pelt was on end. She found Lightpaw conversing excitedly with the other apprentices, towering over them in size due to his age, and his father's genes. _He does have Darkclaw's eyes._ Whitefang decided, _It must bother Sofia to know her son may suffer her mate's fate._ Shaking away those thoughts, she again lazily scanned the clearing, until a flash of moonlight caught her eye.

No, it wasn't quite moonlight. It was reflected. A shimmering surface tossed the silver moonbeams this way and that, though the light wasn't quiet silver. Whitefang realized what it was tinted with. Sky blue. The Greenleaf midday sky was sitting right in this clearing, resting in the gaze of a large dark ginger tabby. _Greenleaf sky blue. It was you!_ Whitefang screeched, _Murderer!_ But she was silent. Her mind began reeling, swimming, drowning in all the possibilities. _I could jump him right now! Or, I could get him as he leaves! I'll slit his throat and-_ Suddenly, the eyes were looking at her. She glanced away quickly, only to peek a second later and realize he was still staring. She growled. _The nerve! Why stare at me? _The tabby averted his gaze and began talking with a lithe brown she-cat beside him. Whitefang grimaced. _Of course he wouldn't dare look at me! The ugly one, he must think. The one whose sister fell to my claws. Well, I'll show him. He's half the warrior I am!_ Whitefang glowered.

"What's wrong? Is he bothering you?" Appleclaw whispered in her ear. Whitefang's pelt stood on end and her ears flattened, _How could he tell who I was looking at? _Then, she realized the blue-eyed tom was glaring suspiciously at Timbermask. The tabby was talking easily with Fogfrost; the two seemed to get along well through a salient sense of shared haughtiness. She almost laughed at the sheer ridiculousness.

"No," She lied, "Why?"

"You seem on edge, is all. Making sure you're alright." Appleclaw smiled. His sweetness unnerved her.

"I'm fine!" She exclaimed. A call from Wildstar to start the gathering distracted her from her friend, and she didn't catch his last few words. The leaders stood regaling upon a tree bough, first Wildstar, then Hollowstar, and Dewstar separating him from Shimmerstar who looked wrathful. In contrast, Hollowstar seemed quite calm. Whitefang felt pride in her leader. _Despite everything, you look strong. I could never stand there as you do._ She purred to herself. She knew the tortie was watching his nephew. Lightpaw inspired every cat to be better, and brought the life and power back into his uncle. Hollowstar's green gaze was unwavering. Wildstar spoke:

"Windclan is thriving this Greenleaf!" She announced, welcomed by cheers from her clanmates, "Though we've had a small outbreak of Sun Fever, every cat is healthy now and we have brought two new warriors into our ranks, Dovestep and Thistlenose!" A pale gray tom and a black patched white she-cat straighten up in the crowd, their names met with wild abandon.

"Shadowclan had suffered many losses this past moon!" Hollowstar said once the cheers had died down, "We lost Swanmist in an ambush along the Riverclan border, and recently my own brother Darkclaw died of his wounds from a _previous_ attack by Riverclan. These deaths are not to go unnoticed, nor these outstanding warriors unrecognized. A moment of silence for lives lost in battles that should not have been fought." The tortie bowed his head, the leaders of Windclan and Thunderclan doing the same. After a moment of indignant hesitation, Shimmerstar, too, dipped her head in the silence that shrouded the clearing. Neither Riverclan, nor Shadowclan warrior dared to speak. The moon remained bright.

"On a lighter note, we welcome a new apprentice, Lightpaw," The golden and white tom grinned wildly as his name was announced, "And prey is running well." The tortie leader dipped his head to Dewstar.

"Thunderclan is deeply saddened to hear of the loss of Swanmist and Darkclaw due to unnecessary violence," the gray tom looked pointedly at Shimmerstar, who hissed as Wildstar mewed in agreement, "and are happy to say that no lives have been lost by us this Greenleaf. In fact, lives are being gained! Birchrunner has moved to the nursery, and a kit rescued by our warriors from a fox's den has been safely returned to its mother. That is all for Thunderclan."

"Riverclan is fine." Shimmerstar began, tone sharp and quick, "Our prey is running well and our warriors are strong. We do not regret such battles, as they were not ambushes are were instigated by the opposing side. Hat is all. Gathering dismissed!" She shouted, leaving the cats in a confused frenzy as to the quickness of her speech.

"Looks like their prey is running a little too quickly for them, if you ask me!" Appleclaw muttered, voice low. Whitefang nodded. The Riverclan cats did seem abnormally slender for Greenleaf, and they were always sleek and well fed. She frowned. _I wonder…_She glanced around and tried to catch a glimpse of the ginger tom. He was already gone, as was the rest of Riverclan. _I'll find you…_

"Whitefang? Hello?" Appleclaw's voice cut through her thoughts.

"Huh? Sorry, what?" She stammered, looking to him. His ice-blue eyes were wide. _Blue…_

"I was just saying goodnight. It was good to see you again." He smiled. Whitefang cringed at his sweetness and immediately felt bad as his face fell.

"Uh…sorry! Got chills!" She said hurriedly, My Clan's going! Bye, see you next time!" She smiled, though her jaw was tight and nervous.

"Bye," Appleclaw sighed, licking her ear. She tensed and dashed toward Shadowclan as soon as he had turned. Once she had caught up with the rest of the Clan, she found herself standing beside Timbermask. _Great._ She thought miserably.

"So…" Timbermask mewed casually.

"What do you want from me, fleabag?" She snapped.

"We have a truce now, Whitefang!" He grinned, "And you're my mate's…" His voice cracked slightly, "Sister. She loved you. I can't…I don't know, it doesn't feel right. Not talking."

"I'm so stupid. Idiot Whitefang. Stupid truce," She muttered, "And it's a little late for that, dungheap, you've already made it clear your sole purpose is to cause me _worlds_ of pain. Mind leaving?"

"Dungheap. That's a new one." Timbermask mused.

"Why are you so calm? I want to bother you! Insult you! Get away from me!" Whitefang growled.

"You're funny," Timbermask rolled his eyes, "Haven't we both had enough of that?"

"I have. You deserve loads more." Whitefang snarled.

"Aw, Whitefang. Stop. I'll be nice, I swear. Swanmist was my _mate_ and she always told me you were her best friend. I didn't appreciate it, I guess. Can we start over?" He begged.

"Fine." Whitefang muttered, "For Swanmist. But keep your distance."

"Trust me, I know you're dangerous." Timbermask grinned, "But you seemed pretty…normal tonight. You know, for a Plainkit with a vicious streak." Whitefang bristled.

"What happened to _nice_?" She growled.

"Sorry!" He meowed sincerely, "but really…you and that tom seemed…close. What's his name? Appleclaw?" Timbermask asked. Whitefang glowered at him.

"Stop it. You don't know him. And we're friends. Try it sometime, maybe add to the massive zero you've accumulated."

"I have one friend, don't I?"

"A truce is _not_ a friendship."

"Half, then?"

"Try more around the negatives."

"Alright, a quarter. I can work with that."

Whitefang snorted at his pertinacity, and realized she was laughing at something the tormentor of her youth had said.

"You can work with that." She repeated incredulously.

"Yeah." Timbermask grinned. Whitefang rolled her eyes, and turned away to hide her slight smile. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction. _For Swanmist._

"Okay." She said coolly, turning to look him in his emerald eyes. The tabby smiled wider. He knew he had won a battle. Whitefang was sure there would be many others before she could trust him.

"Okay." He replied.

**I still can't believe we're almost at 700 reviews holy shiiiiiteeeee (see, guys, I held it it in and said shite instead aren't you proud of me?) that's freaking amazing I can't believe it. That's a lot. Like a lot. And this story hasn't even been up for a year. Woah. **

**I love your comments. I love your critique. I love your ideas. And most of all, I love going onto your profiles and reading your stories too! EEEEEEEEEEEYEEEEEAAAHHHH they're so creative I love it! Remember: need any help, and I'm a beta! YAY!**

**I just had like three mugs of coffee sooooo yeah. **

**QOTD: Thoughts on the ginger tom? Appleclaw? Timbermask? Lightpaw? AKA Thoughts on any and all known characters you find interesting?**

**Love y'all and I'll update this and WCC as soon as possible!**

**-Brighteyes :)**


	43. As the Moon Rises

**1Welcome back friends to another thrilling chapter of Promise! I'm your fabulous, amazing, funny, clearly humble author: Brighteyes! On with the show! (Clearly I'm in some sort of mood today. But I'm not kiddig about thrilling. This will make any warrior's whiskers curl.)**

"G'morning," A sleepy voice rumbled from above Whitefang. Warm breath puffed over her ears. She pried open her heavy eyelids to find Timbermask's tabby marked face above her, emerald eyes sparkling.

"Isn't this overstepping our _boundaries_?" She mumbled, perversely proud of herself for sounding snarky so early in the morning.

"Maybe," He shrugged as Whitefang closed her eyes and rolled away from him, "But you can't sleep _all _morning. We have apprentices to train."

"They need to sleep in just as much as I do. It was a late night."

"You sound like an elder."

"So what if I am? One more excuse to get away from you, then."

"That's harsh. I don't think that's how friends talk to friends."

"Well, you would know, wouldn't you? You've amounted about…zero."

"See? Maybe this is why we're only quarter friends."

"Your status is sinking lower and lower each time you talk to me."

"Just get up, will you?"

"Just shut up, will you?"

"You're a grump."

"You're obnoxious."

"Plainkit."

"Dungheap."

"Ugly."

"Stupid."

"Maybe this is why no one likes you!" Timbermask exclaims angrily, "You never give them a chance!"

Whitefang's golden eyes snap open and she rises from her nest quickly, all drowsiness gone from her.

"I never gave _them_ a chance?!" She snarled, "They never paid me a second glance!"

"What happened to you?" Timbermask hissed.

"Why do you care?" Whitefang growled, turning away from him and stalking away. She didn't catch his reply, soft as a whisper of wind. She couldn't be bothered to listen. _What an idea! I never gave the clan a chance! I gave them too many chances. It's their fault I'm like this. _She thought furiously. She paused at the entrance to camp, looking out into the pine-covered marshes. _Isn't it?_ She shook her head, walking faster into the forest. _Of course it is. They made me this way. Icegaze, Timbermask, Rainwing, Blueshine, Paledove, all of them. Maybe I should just-_She stopped, sitting down beneath a toad-stool covered cedar tree. _What am I thinking? I have nowhere to run. Barkpaw is dead to me. I will not live a life of madness and lust in the slums of twolegplace. Sofia would think ill of me-I would have left Lightpaw behind. Thunderclan would never accept a cat like me ad Appleclaw…I don't think I could take much more of him. Her is my home…but it feels like my prison. _She sighed, flopping down onto the soft ground. Splayed about the roots of the cedar, in sun hardened mud, were sets of pawprints. Whitefang realized where she was with a start. Those prints were her and Swanmist, darting about the tree, flinging moss and mud upon each other. She let her mind drift back to the day, to when she felt like she had reasons to live…

_The two raced through the forest, laughing and kicking up as much dirt and leaves into the other's face as possible. Whitefang spat out a clump of nettles Swanmist had thrust back into her face. She put on a burst of speed and whipped in front of her sister, making sure that when they raced through a puddle to soak Swanmist's muzzle thoroughly._

_As they stopped to catch their breath, Swanmist snuck a mischievous look toward her sister, and scooped up a muddy pawful of slush from beneath the alder tree. Hurling at Whitefang, she raced off through the budding underbrush, laughing. Whitefang blinked twice, clearing the dirt specks and grit from her golden eyes. Swiping a paw down her face, she held it in front of her as she violently shook the sloppy spring-melt from her white pelt. Swanmist's glowing pale green eyes shone from the branches of a nearby tree. Whitefang mock growled, and launched herself up onto a thick bough of the neighboring oak._

_"I'm gonna get you!" She called out gleefully, leaping from the oak to alder clumsily. __Whitefang, you aren't a squirrel! Pay more caution!__ She thought as she inched her way along the slender limb. Swanmist's airy giggle sounded from the tree to her left, and Whitefang just caught a glimpse of her sister's snow-colored silver-patterned pelt slipping between the dark ashen branches. Whitefang jumped, more careful this time to land on a sturdier branch. Swanmist, however, had already made her way three trees ahead. __Curse her smallness!__ Whitefang thought amusedly before taking off after her sister._

_Soon, the two were back on the ground, hurling wads of moldy, sodden moss at each other, reeking of damp and toadstools. Whitefang chucked a clump at Swanmist and hit her square on the flank, leaving a muddy, globular shape and chunks of mushroom clinging to the warrior's pelt. Swanmist lept up in shock._

_"Hey! I'm gonna get you for that!" She shrieked gleefully, tossing another dank mossball and missing. Whitefang bent over with laughter._

_"Come on! You can do better than tha-" She crowed, only to find her mouth jammed with a wad of slimy pine needles. Swanmist cheered from where she cowered behind a great cedar tree. Whitefang spat the disgusting needles out at her sister rapid-fire. They all smacked against the tree with a satisfying __'Shlawp'. __Whitefang scowled, seeing as none hit the intended target. Bending down to retrieve ammunition, She came across a scattering of feathers. They were wet, mangled, and stank of something rancid. __Perfect!__ She thought with a grin. As she leaned over to snatch them up, the stench invaded her nose, and she gagged._

Whitefang remembered the stench of Riverclan clearly, as if it were still there, not yet faded. In fact…Whitefang sniffed the air and her pelt stood on end. She looked up, eyes wary, and the fell upon a dark ginger patch across the border. He stood there, watching her.

"I saw you…at the gathering last night." The ginger tabby meowed. His voice was not quite as deep as Timbermask's, with a resonating tone like a stone smoothed by water. Riverclan. Whitefang seethed inwardly. _Play it cool, Whitefang. Maybe, just maybe, if you play your cards right…_

"You did, huh?" She asked casually, not moving from her spot in fear she might jump the tom and ruin her chance. _If I could only gain his trust…he'll be putty in my paws._

"Yes." The tom said, and he looked away, as if wondering what to say, "I was hoping I'd see you again. Talk to you."

"Why is that?" Whitefang mused. _Just keep talking, Whitefang. Act sweet and charming._

"I doubt you remember me." The ginger tom meowed ruefully, "I mean, you were with that Thunderclan tom…"

Whitefang's eyes widened. She remembered him. Not only was he the murderer of her only sister, but he was also the cat she fell against at the gathering. She wondered why he would possibly remember her.

"I remember you!" She exclaimed despite herself, "You broke my fall!" she laughed, "What a silly way to remember me." She was giggling while knowing whom she was laughing with. Her heart burned. _Keep up the ruse, Whitefang._

"Well, it isn't hard when a beautiful she-cat interrupts and utterly _fascinating _conversation about swallows." The Riverclan warrior rolled his eyes and she giggled again. "Honestly, I think you were the most interesting thing that happened to me all night. But…are you with that tom? Isn't that against the warrior code?" He asked.

Whitefang bristled immediately. "Of course not! Who do you think I am, some philandering she-cat? Appleclaw is _nothing_." She spat. The tom's eyes widened, and he held up a paw.

"I never said-" He began, only to be cut off by a terse word from Whitefang.

"Enough! I know what you were thinking!" She growled, "And what are you doing here, anyway? Spying on us? Haven't you done enough?!" She snarled, something inside of her mind snapping as she lost her temper. He remained calm, almost amused.

"I think I'm allowed to walk my own territory, don't you?" He asked bemusedly. She bristled. "And anyway, how am I supposed to know if you're with him or not? It's not like I know you."

"That's right. You _don't_ know me." Whitefang growled. The tom grinned.

"But, see, that's the point. I _want_ to know you. When a bubbly, beautiful she-cat lights up your night, wouldn't you be interested in being acquainted?" He questioned cheerfully. _What are you trying to do, murderer? Charm me?_

"I don't think I would." She sniffed haughtily, turning away.

"Wait!" the tom meowed, Causing Whitefang to glance over her shoulder, "Please? Meet me, I just want to talk to you. Can we at least be friends? You've been on my mind." He begged.

"I don't even know your name." Whitefang stated, her eyes alight with amusement.

"Falconshade." He grinned.

"Whitefang." She said, grinning back. He laughed. _Good. Build his trust. Revenge will come soon enough. _

"Meet me here tonight?" He asked.

"As the moon rises." She smiled. Her teeth were gritted as she tried desperately not to spring at his throat. _Tonight…_

"Good." He said softly. She felt his summer-sky blue eyes on her back as she padded away. _I may not have my sister, or a true Clan, but I will have my revenge. I promise, Swanmist. I'll do whatever it takes._

* * *

><p>"Where were you?" Timbermask rumbled when she arrived in the hollow. Whitefang dropped a pair of expertly killed swallows at his paws without a word. <em>Swallows. And interesting conversation about swallows.<em> She remembered. She shook her head as she padded over to Stormpaw. _Why in Starclan's name am I thinking about that? Why should I care what he said? All I'm going to do is kill him tonight. He'll feel what Swanmist felt, I'll make sure of it. _

"Whitefang, what's wrong?" Stormpaw asked quietly.

"Nothing," she sighed, "Don't worry about me, Stormpaw. I'm fine." She smiled. Her apprentice was one of the few that could make her do that these days. Cherrynose and Bouncestrike were far too focused on impending parenthood and Duckflight was always busy. Her father was still recovering, but busy nonetheless, and every moment Waterfall was around, she was beside Icegaze. Stormpaw was always there, even when Lightpaw was off training. In a way, her apprentice had become her Swanmist. _No. No one can replace Swanmist. And tonight, I will avenge my sister._ She thought firmly.

"Whitefang?"

"Oh, sorry, Stormpaw." She laughed lightly, "Try out what we practiced a few days ago, okay? The spin and swipe. With a ducking turn at the end. Surprise her by using the hind paw slash too." She decided. Stormpaw nodded, eyes serious.

"Okay. I'll do it for you, okay, Whitefang? Timbermask seems sour today." Stormpaw frowned. Whitefang smiled weakly. _I did that…Maybe I am a terror._

"Oh, Stormpaw, just try your hardest. That's enough for me." She said gently. Stormpaw nodded, but the determination in his clover green eyes didn't change. Whitefang bit back a groan. This tom was so stubborn.

As the apprentices fought in the clearing, Whitefang sat stiffly beside Timbermask. Her thoughts on tonight with Falconshade, she couldn't pay attention. The pale brown tabby would snap at her periodically and she would hit him with a sharp retort, but in the end her focus couldn't hold.

"What is wrong with you?" Timbermask growled, looking at her.

"Maybe I have better things to do than sit here and listen to you and your obnoxious comments!" She hissed.

"Whitefang, look, I'm-" Timbermask began, only to stop short, "No. I'm not sorry. I'm not sorry at all. This is your problem." He said, turning away. Whitefang opened her mouth to protest, but closed it immediately. She had nothing left to say.

* * *

><p>"Cherrynose…" Whitefang meowed uncertainly, eating beside her friend. Bouncestrike was on dusk patrol.<p>

"Mmm?" The tortie she-cat mumbled, looking up from where she had been heartily munching a plump vole.

"Do you think I…have I…am I different than before?" She asked. Cherrynose swallowed, and looked at her seriously.

"Different in what way?" She questioned, leaning in, vole forgotten.

"Well…different from before the battle. You know. When Swanmist…" Whitefang trailed off, unable to look at her friend. She heard the tortie sigh.

"Whitefang, look at me." She demanded. The pale-coated warrior hesitantly looked at her friend, and when golden eyes met blue, Cherrynose spoke.

"Whitefang, you're my best friend, and I love you, but yes. You did change. So many things have been going on…and I know it's been really hard on you…but you're so bitter now, Whitefang. You distanced yourself from all of us. Great Starclan, this is the first time you've spoken to me in weeks! You never told me when you went to twolegplace, or what happened there. Nothing1 I feel like I don't even know you anymore!" Cherrynose's words flooded from her mouth, her face anguished as Whitefang sat, unmoving and emotionless. "Whitefang?"

"No. I see what you mean, Cherrynose. But I can't let it go. My sister is gone." She said stiffly.

"Whitefang, you have to! You'll hurt yourself even more. Just talk to me, we used to be so close! I miss you," The tortie queen pleaded. Whitefang regarded her friend, and regret panged in her heart. _I'm in too deep now, Cherrynose. Tonight I get my revenge. Then, maybe, I'll be able to let her go…_

"Goodnight," Whitefang sighed, flicking her tail over Cherrynose's side. She knew she'd need this sleep for when she'd be up again later. The sun was just barely setting.

"Sleep well, Whitefang." Cherrynose whispered, watching her friend pad away into the dark warrior's den. Whitefang's snow-colored tail flicked away into the depths, and she was gone.

**QOTD: Whitefang's multiple interactions today: what are your thoughts?**

**I'm soooooooooooooooooooooooooooo excited we're almost to 700 reviews on this and Warriors Couples Counseling OMG yikes wow go check that one out too yay ok moving on yeah.**

**I am putting up a Holiday Special Episode for WCC and was wondering if y'all wanted something special from me for a present; author to readers?**

**Poll for that on my profile!**

**Love as always,**

**~Bright~ **


	44. Greenleaf Sky Blue

**Back again, and I am sooooo ready for Christmas tomorrow, guys, like seriously.**

Whitefang lay awake, and she was restless. Every muscle and fiber of being in her body was tight with apprehension and anticipation, her eyes, though closed, flicked back and forth as though analyzing her battleground. Her whiskers twitched as she envisioned Falconshade's face, the way his eyes would widen when she sunk her claws into his stomach just as he had done to Swanmist…her claws unsheathed unconsciously and her tail swished along her nest. His face…the dark ginger tabby pelt, set with a pair of clear sky blue eyes. Whitefang shivered at the thought. _Murderer!_ She rolled over. _I've got to try and sleep. I can't be falling over my paws tonight. Not tonight. Tonight it will all be over, and then, just maybe, I can let go. _Her stomach twisted painfully. _Then maybe I'll be…old Whitefang. And I'll get my life back together._ She decided. She missed her friends. And somehow, she wished she could speak to Timbermask, or even laugh with-_No. I don't want to laugh with Appleclaw. What's wrong with him? Interclan relationships are wrong, and I will _not_ have a mate, not ever. That was Swanmist. She deserved to be a mother. Starclan, why have you been so cruel? Will you just let me do this one thing tonight and set everything right? Swanmist did nothing wrong. If anything, take me away. You should have, Starclan. They don't want me here anyway. The only one who does-_Whitefang cringed. _I can't._

Opening her eyes, she sighed. The moon was high in the sky. She had been so busy focusing on not focusing on her duty that the time had flown by. She hadn't even noticed Bouncestrike and Timbermask had crept in along with the other warriors, sleeping peacefully near her. She had noticed they had shifted their nests further away. Standing up, Whitefang stalked silently through the dozing bodies, careful not to step on anyone. Once she had made it out of the warriors den, she snuck past the apprentices den and the nursery, slipping through the unguarded camp entrance into the inky forest.

The trees loomed large over the pale warrior as she slunk through their evergreen branches and stepped softly over fallen pine needles collected from season cycles past. Her tail swished, lightly brushing along the blooming lilies lining the well-trodden paths. Soft mud squished beneath her pads, the result of long humid days and fertile soil resting in shaded glens. Small, nocturnal creatures skittered among gnarled roots and silken leaves upon the thriving underbrush. A glowing, purple-blue twilight set upon the forest, silver moonlight streaming through the canopy and flitting about the glades like tiny silver dancers through emerald ballrooms. Whitefang, golden eyes glowing and fixated on a single glowing in the distance, was oblivious the evening splendor. Instead, she was intent on tainting it crimson.

He stood at attention beside the border, dark ginger tabby pelt tipped with silver, casting a glow over the ground. His sky blue eyes were waiting. Whitefang's narrowed. She braced herself to spring.

"Whitefang!" He called, "You came," He smiled. It was that which caught her off guard. He was unsuspecting. Naïve. And she could finish it now. But instead she lifted her head_. He was drifting in and out of light as shadowed clouds drifted across the glowing orb above them. Starclan is sending a sign. Tonight is not the night. Soon, sister, soon._

"I came," She mewed, her voice soft yet cold. _Oh, I wish I could just sink my claws into you, you dirty little-_

"I hope we can be friends," Falconshade said, still smiling. His teeth were sharp and white, yet they were not threatening. In fact, his smile was almost sweet. The kind Whitefang saw whenever Stormpaw was pleased, or happy in any way. It was the smile Lightpaw wore everyday. It was the smile, hopeful and trusting, that bit through her resolve. _Not tonight, Swanmist. _She decided. This tom was strange. No cat smiled at her like that.

"So? Why did you want to see me?" She wondered, trying to keep the curiosity from entering her voice, instead settling for subtle disinterest. Falconshade was unaffected, and sat down beside her, still on Riverclan territory. The stench of fish invaded her nostrils, and she tried not to cringe. Falconshade laughed.

"Oh, come on! It can't be that bad." He grinned.

"How could you tell?" Whitefang asked, surprised.

"Trust me, you're not good at hiding what you think, Whitefang." He said bemusedly.

"Oh, really? Then what am I thinking?" She asked, trying to clear her mind. The scent of rotten sardines still managed to creep into her lungs.

"Still the smell. You're going cross eyed." Falconshade snickered.

"Humph," She muttered, "Well, you do smell terrible. Shadowclan are far cleaner."

"No!" Falconshade protested, "You smell disgusting!"

"Like what?" She huffed.

"Like…dead frogs. And toadstools. And marshland." Falconshade mewed after a few decided sniffs.

"Well, I guess if you smelled a little closer, you'd find other things. Like lilies. And fresh moss." Whitefang said, thinking back to her camp. She was drowsy, however much she wished she weren't. _You can't betray any weakness to the enemy. _

"Hmmm," Falconshade leaned forward, and pressed his nose to her scuff. It was cold and soft. And it tickled. Whitefang shied away. "Yes. I smell it down. The lilies. And like…pines. And maybe just a little thistle blossom." Falconshade grinned, "Certainly you knew that already, though, you're prickly as one. Have you never had a friend before?"

"A few. They didn't last." Whitefang mumbled, looking away. Her pelt fluffed up, as if shielding herself.

"It's okay. You've got me now, right? I swear I won't hurt you." The ginger warrior meowed seriously.

_What if you already have? _She wondered, looking at him with a shattered golden gaze.

"What's wrong?" He asked, shifting a little closer.

"Nothing," she snapped, pulling away. Falconshade frowned slightly, and then he dove across the border, knocking Whitefang off her paws. She found herself pinned beneath him, face pressed into the thick, short ginger fur of his chest. She struggled, paws flailing, claws straining desperately to scratch her offender. She managed to nick his shoulder before the Riverclan warrior spoke.

"Smell me." He rumbled.

"What?!" She hissed, "You just attacked me!"

"Smell me!" He grunted, pinning down her forepaws only to get a swift kick to the stomach, "Smell me and I'll let you go!"

"Smell you? You're suffocating me!"

"Just do it!" Falconshade groaned irritably, "Don't make me sit on you!" Whitefang huffed and inhaled. His fur was clean, thick and glossy but short, and as sleek as every other Riverclanner. She smelt fish, and lots of it. Some was sour, some fresh. Yet, beneath it all, she smelt clear, running water. Watermint and dried reeds punctuated the pure scent of streams, along with occasional bursts of mallow blooms and water lilies. The thick musk of otters clung to his fur as well, heavy and overbearing. As the dark ginger tom stepped off of her, she breathed in the fresh night air deeply, and found herself wishing his scent remained. Staring over at him, she scowled.

"What was that for?" She asked snappishly, angry with him for attacking her and herself for enjoying the sense of fun he brought. She hated herself for thinking he was like Barkpaw. The old Barkpaw. _I'll kill you. Just you wait!_

"That, my dear Whitefang, was for you to trust me."

"You expect me to trust you when you throw yourself over the border and strangle me with your fish stink?" She growled. Then, he laughed. His laugh was like bird song, like stones tumbling through rivers, and branches swaying in the howling wind. She frowned, yet it was contagious. She found herself laughing too.

"You idiot!" She gasped through the mirth, tossing a pinecone at the offending warrior. He merely howled with laughter, rolling upon the grassy knoll they sat on top of.

"You-your face!" He cackled. His large ginger paws were flailing.

"You're insane!" She giggled, tossing yet another pinecone.

"You're incredibly irritable!" He grinned. Whitefang burst out laughing, letting loose for the first time in a moon. Once she finished, wiping tears from her golden gaze, she found him staring at her. _What does he want? I'll kill him. I know it. Only tonight…build trust…_

"What?" She mumbled.

"Your laugh. It's great." He smiled sincerely.

"Pfft, yeah right." She scoffed, "It's full of snorts and snickers."

"It's cute," Falconshade grinned.

"I doubt it," Whitefang shook her head, raising her eyes to the moon so she wouldn't have to stare into the beautiful blue gaze of the tom that had ended her sister.

"The moon's high. I guess-I guess we should go back." Falconshade frowned.

"Yeah." Whitefang agreed, turning back to her territory, fully prepared to leave him behind.

"Whitefang!" He meowed. She glanced at him for the final time that night. "Could we meet here tomorrow? Friends?" He asked, eyes beseechingly searching her face.

"Alright. Tomorrow." She mewed, turning and padding off into the woods.

"Goodnight," Falconshade called softly. _Goodnight, murderer. I'll get you tomorrow. I swear it._ Whitefang thought, disappearing into the forest marshes. Falconshade watched her go from his spot on the knoll, sky blue eyes unwavering until the last glimpse of the pale warrior vanished into the night.

* * *

><p>"Wake up! Today we'll be hunting!" Whitefang called into the apprentice den.<p>

"Huh?" Fadingpaw grunted. Stormpaw's clover green eyes flew open.

"Right now?" He asked drowsily.

"Yes! Predawn techniques will be in your assessment. Better now than never if you want to earn your warrior name." The she-cat announced from where she stood outside. "A warrior is ready whenever, and wherever. See, I've already groomed, eaten, and stretched."

"The sun isn't even up…" Fadingpaw mumbled, rolling over with her back to Whitefang. The she-cat rolled her golden eyes.

"That's the point of _pre-dawn_, Fadingpaw." Timbermask rumbled, appearing beside Whitefang. She glanced at him, but he kept looking at his apprentice.

"Fine," The gradient gray she-cat sighed, heaving herself out of her nest and nearly collapsing on Stormpaw.

"Oof! Watch it, lump!" He grinned, throwing her off playfully. Fadingpaw giggled.

"You're a good landing! Soft…and squishy!" She crowed, dashing out of the den before her brother could tackle her.

"Come back here! I'm not squishy!" Stormpaw shouted, running after her.

"One way to wake them up," Whitefang mewed under her breath. Timbermask ignored her. _Fine._ She thought. _You give me the cold shoulder, and I'll return it. I don't need you anyway._ Stormpaw was wolfing down a small mouse, and Fadingpaw was smacking her lips, having just finished a finch. Both pelts were still straggly, but Whitefang was still impressed by their speed. _They'll make good warriors; I know it. _

Whitefang began walking toward the camp entrance, and heard Stormpaw scurry up behind her, following. Timbermask and Fadingpaw padded not far behind. As her apprentice scuttled up beside her, Whitefang worried if she had washed enough. _Do I still smell like Riverclan?_ Stormpaw mentioned nothing, and his face revealed nothing but anticipation. She resisted breathing a sigh of relief. A flash of blue appeared out of the corner of her eye, and for a moment Whitefang thought it was his eyes. It was only the sky. She shook her head slightly and refocused. _I will kill him. Soon. Why must I think of him now? _

"So, Whitefang, where are we hunting?" Stormpaw asked excitedly.

"Yeah, where are we going?" Fadingpaw inquired.

"We'll be training separately today, you two." Timbermask answered stiffly. Whitefang chose to ignore the cold decision and touched her apprentice's shoulder lightly with her thick white tail.

"Head on over to the oak stump. I'll follow in a moment. You better have scented something by the time I get there, though." She instructed, shooting the young tom a wink. He grinned and nodded before dashing off. Fadingpaw watched him leave, upset evident in her silver-blue gaze. Whitefang felt her heart sink as she remembered what it was like training without Swanmist, but, with a glance up to the stagnant brown warrior, she left to follow Stormpaw.

Whitefang watched the young tom as he crept through the forest trails, so different during the day than in the night. Sunlight drew fanciful patterns along the forest floor and poked through the canopy as a persistent friend would. It dappled the ground and illuminated the flowers, causing everything to glow in vibrant hues. The lilies seemed more purple than white, and the leaves shone even brighter than before. Stormpaw's clover green eyes flashed in the sunlight as he peered into the treetops. Whitefang noted the prick of his ears, the strain of his limbs forward, and lifted her eyes to the trees as well. Above them, in an old pine beside the stump, was a fat, twittering mockingbird.

She listened to it carefully as it imitated the calls of other birds nearby and smiled. _A mockingbird is a rarity. It gives away the locations of other birds. This is good, especially for Stormpaw._ As if he had heard her thoughts, the apprentice turned around and locked eyes with his mentor.

"What do I do?" He whispered, his voice barely heard over the clutter of birdcalls.

"Listen." Whitefang mouthed simply in reply. Stormpaw cocked his head confusedly, but when Whitefang refused to say any more, he once again rested his sights on the mockingbirds. Whitefang watched his one white ear twitch back and forth, the other one moving in different directions. As she followed their paths, her eyes met with multiple other birds within the branches. With a brush of her tail along his flank, Stormpaw began to creep forward…

* * *

><p>"Wow! How much did you <em>catch<em>?" Fadingpaw gasped, seeing her brother and his mentor meet them in the clearing, jaws full of birds. Stormpaw grinned wildly and spoke, his voice muffled by feathers.

"I got two chickadees and a mockingbird!" He said proudly. The tufts of fur above Timbermask's eyes rose, and her dipped his head, impressed.

"A mockingbird. You don't find many of those in the forest." The brown tabby meowed, still steadfastly refusing to look at Whitefang. She ignored him.

"Yes, and it was an amazing catch," She purred, looking at Stormpaw proudly. His green eyes shone and he smiled in a way that made her think of Falconshade. _I'll kill him tonight. Don't worry, Swanmist, I'll avenge you tonight…_

"Well, let's head back to camp!" Timbermask announced, picking up his own catch, a large squirrel, and Fadingpaw snatching up hers. As the four walked back to camp in silence, the two apprentices batting at each other playfully, Whitefang tried not to think about Timbermask and their silence. She knew it wouldn't be what Swanmist wanted. The tension between them was stiff as tree trunks and thick as mud from the marshes. She found herself thinking about Falconshade. _I will kill him._ She thought seriously, but she couldn't help but remember how innocent he seemed, and how he made her laugh. _It's all a ruse. He's a murderer, Whitefang, and your job is to avenge your sister._ She remembered her sister's bloodied body lying amidst the stormy battleground, and her heart burned with a fury that made her want to double over in pain. She had tried to push her emotions away. They were flooding back. _I need them. They'll help me do what I have to do. I promise you, Swanmist, I'll kill him tonight._

"Whitefang, are you coming?" Stormpaw asked. Whitefang realized they were already standing at the camp entrance.

"Yes, yes. Just thinking. Run along, Stormpaw." She smiled. As she followed her apprentice back into camp, the image of Swanmist, dead and tattered, crept back into her mind. _This must be what haunts Timbermask at night._ She thought, _ The rotten fleabag loved her. I guess…maybe I was a little cold._ She groaned inwardly. _I have to apologize to _that_?! Why, Starclan, are you so cruel? I'm only doing this for my sister, and for the apprentices. I swear, if he so much as thinks for a _moment _that we'll be real friends, he'll have to think again._

Dropping her catches off by the freshkill pile, she watched as Stormpaw strutted up beside her and meticulously placed his mockingbird on top, smoothing its glossy gray and white dappled feathers.

"What a catch!" Dawnstrike purred as he saw it.

"I caught it!" Stormpaw puffed up proudly. Dawnstrike smiled at the young tom.

"Congratulations," He chuckled, "It takes skill to catch a mockingbird, and that one's a beauty." The red tabby tom looked at Whitefang, who met his gaze for a moment before purring to Stormpaw:

"Dawnstrike's right. It does take skill. You're on your way to becoming a fine warrior. But don't purr up too much, you might explode!" She teased, "You still have a lot to learn."

"Yes Whitefang!" Stormpaw nodded. A rumble of approval grew in Dawnstrike's throat.

"You have a good mentor, young'un. Make sure to pay attention to her!" The tom said before padding away to his mate. Whitefang's heart glowed at the praise, and she tried not to smile. _Did he really just-?_ But before she could ask her apprentice, the small gray tom had dashed away to his parents, tail waving excitedly. Whitefang smiled, and looked away, trying to spot her own father. Stonetail was nowhere to be found, but Paledove was hovering around Blueshine and Sharpcloud. Whitefang truly didn't feel like dealing with her mother today. Yet…she spied Timbermask eating along outside the warrior's den. Steeling herself to confront him, Whitefang padded over.

"Timbermask." She meowed awkwardly. He didn't even look up, merely grunting in reply. "Timbermask!" Whitefang growled impatiently.

"What?" He snapped, looking at her.

"I wanted to apologize, stupid!" She hissed. Timbermask's emerald eyes flashed angrily.

"You want to apologize? Then don't insult me." He snarled.

"Well, if you weren't such a dungheap, maybe you'd let me!" She growled.

"Oh, I'm a dungheap now?" Timbermask rumbled furiously.

"Haven't you always been?" Whitefang retorted.

"Just say what you wanted to say and leave me alone." He scowled, eyes narrowing.

"Well…" Whitefang mumbled, realizing this conversation was not going as it should've, "I just wanted to say I'm sorry. For being so…I don't know. Terrible. It wasn't what Swanmist would've wanted." Timbermask's gaze bore into her, and finally she met his eyes. They were soft.

"You're right. She wouldn't have. I forgive you, Whitefang. The truce is back on. Quarter friends?" He offered. Whitefang made a face.

"With me/ After all I did? And with you? After all you've done?" She questioned. Timbermask sighed.

"So maybe it's a stretch…" He muttered.

"Who knows what will happen. As long as neither of us do something stupid." Whitefang said with a small laugh. As she walked away, her thoughts spun wildly. _We may have a truce, Timbermask, but we'll never be friends. And tonight, I'll have one less thing to worry about..._

She felt lighter already.

**Strange way to make yourself feel better, Whitefang. But to each their own!**

**QOTD: Falconshade seems like he'd be quite the charmer in Riverclan. Would you fall for him?**

**OMG guys if you want something for the holidays, you're gonna have to go on my profile and vote. If I don't know what to write, I can't write anything!**

**BTW I'm going to be posting a new WCC episode and holiday special there as well. Busy busy! _And_ I'll be in Puerto Rico for a week, so maybe the extra updates will make up for my absence. **

**See you soon, and don't forget to vote! **

**~Bright~**


	45. I Think I Love You

**Sorry I didn't get this up sooner. It was pretty tough to write, cause it has a bunch of important plot stuff. So yeah. Hi.**

There was so little going on in Shadowclan that Stormpaw's mockingbird was the talk of the camp. Every cat congratulated him, and wanted to take a look at the catch. Stormpaw held his head up proudly and grinned whenever a new cat came over to admire his bird, until his father had enough and snapped.

"Every cat's looked at that bloody bird, and if you don't eat it soon, it'll be a waste of a catch!" Icegaze exclaimed. Stormpaw frowned slightly, but he understood the large tom's words. Picking up the mockingbird daintily, the apprentice carried it over to the elder's den. Whitefang watched happily as Frecklestep and Jumpfire gushed over how it was _such_ an _honor_ to eat a _magnificent_ catch, as this one was. Stormpaw left the den glowing from ears to tail with pride, and Fadingpaw made sure to bring his ego back down to size once he came back to her to brag. Whitefang stifled a laugh as the littermates went at it, Shiverpaw watching them and shaking her bemusedly.

"Who'd have thought that such a small bird could lighten everyone up?" Whitefang chuckled, glancing at Cherrynose. The tortie smiled.

"To be fair, it _was_ a large bird. And a mockingbird at that!" She grinned.

"Everyone's talking about that splendid little piece of prey," Bouncestrike adds, licking his jet black forepaw and running it over his muzzle in an effort to cleanse the scraps of squirrel meat from his mouth.

"And you seem to be happier too," Cherrynose remarked, looking Whitefang over carefully.

"I guess I am. It's nice to see Stormpaw so pleased." She decided.

"Whitefang!" Mothwhisker called from the entrance to the nursery. Whitefang glanced up, wondering why the dusky brown she-cat who had so scorned her before was stooping to talk to her. "Quite the catch your apprentice made. You've been training him up well!" Mothwhisker said, her tone light. Whitefang blinked in surprise.

"Thank you," She stammered.

"I'm hoping you'll be up to doing the same for our kits," Dawnstrike meowed, appearing at his mate's side. His voice was gruff, yet his eyes smiled. Whitefang felt her heart swell. _Is this really happening?_

"I'd be honored." She replied honestly to the red warrior, who nodded and then ushered Mothwhisker back into the nursery as twilight fell. The small, fragile queen was being doted upon by the entire Clan, seeing as they were hoping her second pregnancy wouldn't end as the first had. The brown she-cat still had those days when she would refuse to eat and merely lay about in her nest bemoaning the loss of her two previous kittens. It seemed everyone wished this litter to live, and ease Mothwhisker's pain. Dawnstrike especially.

"Whoa," Whitefang whispered as the pair disappeared.

"What?" Cherrynose asked, but before Whitefang could answer, yet another unexpected voice rose from the other side of camp and called her name.

"That was a brilliant bird Stormpaw caught today," Blizzardpelt said. Beside him, his sisters nodded. Sparrowtail grinned.

"You must be one heck of a mentor, Whitefang, to be able to teach your apprentice how to catch a mockingbird. They're tricky!" The tortie tom, nearly identical to Cherrynose, said warmly.

"Well, he has a knack for hunting anyway, and-" Whitefang sputtered nervously, unused to so many cats speaking to her.

"Aw, don't be so shy Whitefang! Everyone knows you're a grand warrior. It's only natural that Stormpaw will be too." Duckflight spoke from where she was sharing tongues with her brother. Grayshadow muttered something unintelligible, and Whitefang felt her lungs tighten and her breathing quicken. _Why are they all so nice to me? I mean, Duckflight's my friend, but she barely speaks to me anymore. And those four…they never liked me. And Mothwhisker? And Dawnstrike? What is going on? At least Grayshadow's acting normal…I'd be really afraid if he started complimenting me…_

"Whitefang? Hello?" Cherrynose mewed.

"Huh?" Whitefang grunted, whipping around to face her friend and snap herself out of her racing thoughts.

"I was just wondering-are you coming to bed? You're looking a little tired." The tortie queen asked. _I am tired…hunting with Stormpaw and apologizing to Timbermask just sapped my energy today. And all of these cats talking to me? Talking to me nicely? What is life?_ She thought, yawning. _But I can't sleep. The moon is rising, and I have to get my revenge. _Her blood boiled as she imagined her claws sinking into Falconshade's soft ginger stomach.

"I'm tired, but I think I need to take a walk first. You know, clear my head a little." She explained. Cherrynose nodded, and Whitefang felt her heart sink a little in her chest. _I sound like Swanmist. _Dipping her head to her friends, Whitefang began padding toward the camp entrance, but something stopped her.

"Where are you off to, sweet?" Stonetail asked. His wounds had healed nicely, Whitefang noticed. She hadn't seen him in a while. In fact, she had barely talked to him since Swanmist's death. It was like he had vanished, and left her to deal with her problems on her own. And in a way, he had vanished. He had left her side to help his mate. Or, at least, his former mate. Whitefang couldn't figure out _what_ her parents were now.

"Just a walk. Clear my head, and get some time to myself, you know." She mewed.

"Oh. Okay," He father frowned slightly, "Are you…okay?" Whitefang felt her claws unsheathe. _I am not all right. I could be fine, but thanks to you I'm not…you abandoned me! Of course I'm not okay!_

"No. I'm not. You left me to deal with _everything_ while you ran off with Paledove!" She hissed her mother's name like a curse, "I'm alone, trying to get over my sister's death, train an apprentice, and fix my life that was turned freaking upside down. And where is my father? Fraternizing with the enemy! What happened to being by my side forever? What happened to taking care of your only daughter left?" Whitefang found herself whining like a little kit. _Stop it. This is unbecoming of a full-grown warrior. _One half of her brain mewed sternly. _But he promised to love me! To look after me! Always keep your promises. _The other half whimpered.

"Whitefang," Stonetail began, "I thought you'd grown up. I thought you were stronger than this. You mother needs me and-"

"She's not my mother!" Whitefang exploded angrily, golden eyes glowing like fireballs. Her father's met hers with the same ferocity.

"You're not a kit anymore, Whitefang! I expect you to act like a warrior, not a whiny child!" Stonetail growled.

"Swanmist is dead! My sister is dead, and you expect me to be fine?! My family has abandoned me, and I'm supposed to be strong and _deal with it_?!" Whitefang growled. She was glad they were by the dirtplace, so no one else would hear her screams.

"We all miss Swanmist painfully. But she has been gone for a while now, Whitefang, and I expected you to move on. I was so proud of you. Now I feel that both of my daughters are gone." Stonetail hissed, his voice cold.

"You made me like this! You promised _forever_, and now you're _gone_! What happened to you?" Whitefang screamed to her father.

"Grow up!" Stonetail snarled. Whitefang felt tears well in her eyes as the only cat who'd ever been by her side through thick and thin growled at her. She had never thought of her father as this…monster. A heartless monster. Sobbing, the warrior fled from camp, not stopping even as her thick white pelt became tangled in briars. She ran and she had no idea to where she was heading. Eventually, she lay upon the ground and cried her heart out into the thick, pine scented soil.

"Whitefang?" He murmured. She hadn't realized he was there. And she didn't want him there. She wanted Swanmist.

"Whitefang?" He repeated. She heard his pawsteps, and felt his pelt against her side as he sat next to her. His scent washed over her.

_I should kill you right now._ She thought angrily. He lay down beside her, and she felt his paw cover hers. _Why am I not killing you?_ She wondered.

"Don't cry." He mewed, though his voice was unsteady. He didn't trust her yet. Whitefang wanted to grin. _I am here to gain his trust. No wonder I ran here. Starclan is saying he doesn't trust me yet. I can't kill him until he trusts me._ _That is the ultimate revenge. Don't worry Swanmist; I will avenge you. I may take days, or even weeks, but I will kill him._ Whitefang then left her thoughts and allowed her grief over the loss of her father to consume her, sobs wracking her body. Falconshade stayed by her side the entire night. As Whitefang drifted to sleep, she came to realize a friend had never done that for her before.

She hated him for it.

* * *

><p>"Good morning," Timbermask muttered as Whitefang prodded the tabby awake. It had been going on like this for two moons. He would wake her up, and shake her shoulder until she swatted his nose. The next day, she would poke him and stick her paws in his ears until he grumbled something obnoxious. Then, the two would fetch the apprentices, who were easier to coerce into the waking world, and head out to train. Whitefang had taken to applying Addershriek's old mentoring methods, and by the end of the day, the apprentices would collapse from exhaustion. She and Timbermask were fine, of course, seeing as they were two of the top warriors in Shadowclan. Whitefang prided herself on it, and finally her clanmates were beginning to acknowledge her efforts. Some days, she felt like Swanmist. Whenever she thought that, though, she would push it away. There was no way in all of Starclan she would ever come close to her sister. Swanmist was perfect. And she would be avenged. Whitefang had spent every night with Falconshade, working her way up to his fullest trust. It was long and exhausting, but every time she came back to her nest, she felt closer to her goal. She would kill him.<p>

"Well, you've woken me up. Happy now?" Timbermask mumbled, "Or are you just going to sit there and stare off into space like some daft starling?"

"Oh, shut up you old badger. You wouldn't be so tired if you hadn't waited up for me last night." Whitefang snapped irritably, making her way out of the den, Timbermask following her.

"Waited up for you. Oh, yeah." The tabby rubbed his nose and blinked. "No wonder my head hurts."

"Yeah, well, you deserved it. What I do with my nights is private." The pale warrior grunted, padding over to the apprentice's den, where Fadingpaw's heavy snores emanated from it like thunder.

"I don't see why you can't tell me!" Timbermask meowed, poking his head in and jabbing at Fadingpaw's sleeping form. Her paw twitched and her eyes snapped open.

"Why does it feel so early?" She mumbled.

"Yeah, well maybe I want to go off by myself and think. Starclan only knows you talk to much to let me do that during the day!" Whitefang ranted, nosing her own apprentice awake.

"It feels early because we're the dawn patrol today, Fadingpaw," Timbermask rolled his eyes, "Didn't I tell you that yesterday?" then, turning to Whitefang, he said, "I don't talk that much."

"Yeah, you sorta do." Stormpaw muttered, rubbing his eyes with a large gray paw.

"Agreed." Fadingpaw snorted.

"Were we talking to you?" Whitefang and Timbermask growled simultaneously.

The apprentices shook their heads and hustled out of the den.

"Mouse tails, I hate it when they get like this!" Fadingpaw grumbled as the pair darted away.

"Well, if it makes you so _happy_," Whitefang meowed sarcastically, "I go on walks. I like to clear my head."

"You clear your head until the moon is high?" Timbermask grunted incredulously.

"Maybe," Whitefang said evasively, "Can we just go out on patrol? Your voice is beginning to bother me. It's not supposed to do that until midday."

"I am seriously not that annoying." Timbermask protested.

"Are you kidding me?" Rainwing snorted, padding out of the warrior's den and staring down her brother, "You're one of the most bothersome little twerps I've ever-"

"I think I get the picture." Timbermask growled, swatting his sister playfully. Whitefang stifled a laugh. It had surprised her how funny Rainwing could be when she wasn't acting like she had a stick shoved up her butt. The silver blue she-cat never _truly_ apologized for her nastiness, but she had done things to make it up to Whitefang. And Whitefang liked it. Rainwing shot Timbermask a meaningful glance with her mint green gaze.

"Have you-" she began, only to be cut off quickly by the tabby tom.

"No!" He shouted. The few cats awake in the clearing glanced at him curiously, "No, not yet." He repeated, lowering his voice.

"Okay, okay." Rainwing grinned, "Just tell me how it goes." Timbermask rolled his eyes, and Whitefang laughed.

"What was all that about?" She asked once Rainwing had walked away.

"Oh, Rainwing is being Rainwing." Timbermask sighed with a wave of his tail, "Nothing much." The pair were quiet and they hurried over to the apprentices, who were wolfing down a hearty breakfast.

"Leave some for everyone else," Stonetail chided them as he made his way past the freshkill pile to Hollowstar's den. Whitefang dipped her head to him, and he meandered over to nuzzle his daughter. They had made up after their fight, and things were nearly back to normal. Nearly. As her father nuzzled her ear, Whitefang saw her mother creep out of the warrior's den and watch them silently. Paledove had taken to doing that. It made Whitefang uncomfortable. Almost everyone else in the Clan liked her now. What was wrong with her mother? Well, Blueshine was still cold. Icegaze and Grayshadow, Kestrelwind, Quietdream, and even Lostwind, from her place in the elder's den, disapproved of Whitefang from afar. _Why can't you just let it go?_

"Hello, Papa." Whitefang smiled, nuzzling her father back. Stonetail purred.

"Good morning lovely. Going to work those two apprentices into the ground again today?" He asked.

"Of course. Their day off is tomorrow! Today is just as yesterday, and the day before, and the day before," She laughed.

"Well, I'm glad you're happy. I'll do anything to keep it that way, too!" Stonetail mewed.

"Oh, Papa, you're doing too much already." Whitefang frowned. Last moon there'd been a family of badgers nestled into Shadowclan's territory, and they had lost Honeygaze and Sharpcloud in the battle. Rosedust refused to eat after her mate was killed, and ended up dying of grief a week later. Hollowstar and Featherfall were devastated by the loss of their daughter, and Stonetail had practically run the Clan for an entire moon as the cats grieved. Whitefang had felt immense sorrow for the loss of the she-cat she had named and the tom that had saved her and Swanmist from a badger as kits. The irony was bitter, and tasted of bile.

"When you're deputy, Whitefang, you do what you have to do." Stonetail sighed, licking his daughter's cheek, "Now I've got to be going, and you have a dawn patrol to go on. Have fun, sweetheart."

"Okay. I'll see you later." She smiled.

"Let's go," Timbermask mewed.

"Alright." Whitefang agreed padding over to the apprentices.

"Aren't you going to eat?" Stormpaw asked, concerned, as he swallowed the final bite of his shrew.

"True warriors don't eat until they've caught something for their clanmates." Timbermask meowed sternly. Stormpaw hung his head, abashed, while Fadingpaw met his gaze.

"Well, I'm hungry!" She exclaimed.

"That doesn't matter when there are other bellies to feed beside your own!" Whitefang scolded.

"Sorry, Whitefang! I'll catch something right away!" Stormpaw said.

"We've got a patrol to go on first." Lightpaw mewed, appearing behind Whitefang.

"Lightpaw? You're not on this dawn patrol, you went yesterday." Timbermask frowns.

"Blizzardpelt wanted some, ah, _alone_ time," Lightpaw grinned, "I wouldn't bother inviting Duckflight out for anything today. They're a bit busy." Stormpaw and Fadingpaw cocked their heads and stared at Lightpaw with confusion, while Timbermask and Whitefang roared with laughter.

"Love your _eloquent_ choice of words, Lightpaw!" Whitefang crowed.

"_Bit busy_ indeed!" Timbermask snorted. Lightpaw snickered, and the younger apprentices sat silently.

"I don't get it." Fadingpaw said bluntly.

"You will when you're older." Timbermask mewed certainly.

"Let's get moving; I need fresh air. Oh, great Starclan, Lightpaw. I needed that laugh too!" Whitefang purred.

"Glad I could help." Lightpaw grinned.

The group left camp quickly, Whitefang and Timbermask walking side by side in the lead, with the apprentices following. Every so often, the warriors would ask the apprentices to scent something, or remark the border, and even occasionally do sprints along the territory boundaries. When they reached the border of Shadowclan and Riverclan, Whitefang gazed upon it carefully. Of course, she would be there that night, earning trust while simultaneously plotting Falconshade's demise. It had nearly become a fulltime job. Two moons of it, and she felt like she was merely a whisker length away from getting her revenge. Swanmist's revenge.

Whitefang found it disturbing that sometimes she enjoyed the late night meetings with the Riverclan tom. Her stomach twisted whenever she felt closer to him than her friends in Shadowclan, or even those in Thunderclan. But Whitefang didn't really talk to her friends in Thunderclan anymore, or at least not Appleclaw. Not since that gathering.

"_Well, Whitefang! Guess what?" Fogfrost mewed excitedly._

"_What?" She asked knowingly._

"_Birchrunner had her kits! One of them looks exactly like his mother; the little devil is already getting into trouble, my Cedarkit! The other two toms look like me, and that makes her happy. Smokekit and Hawkkit. I wish they looked like their mother. But one has her eyes, and that's what matters! He's a handsome little fella. The other one has blue eyes, and Starclan only knows where he got them from. They look like the lake during a storm, dark blue and wild. And their sister is my princess. I swear to Starclan, she's so spoiled. My one little daughter with three toms! Owlkit's so sweet, Whitefang, I wish you could meet her. She's gray and cream and white, all tortoiseshell-like and mixed up in her pelt. Her eyes are mine though, and she looks so beautiful. She'll have no problem getting all the toms. Hell, she's already got me under her paw!" Fogfrost rambled._

"_We've been hearing this for an entire moon." Robinfoot rolled her eyes._

"_It's honestly pretty cute, though." Sunshine laughed._

"_So, I know you two have your toms, but do you have a mate now Appleclaw?" Whitefang teased._

"_No," He mewed, but Robinfoot lept in eagerly._

"_Oh, but Fernheart is all over him!" The pretty brown tabby meowed._

"_She thinks he's amazing." Sunshine laughed._

"_Yeah, well, she's annoying." Appleclaw huffed. _

"_And he won't tell us who he likes!" Fogfrost added._

"_Oh, well I'm sure he'll get her." Whitefang mewed pleasantly._

"_Really?" Appleclaw asked her eagerly._

"_Definitel-oh, uh, hey!" Whitefang smiled as Timbermask wandered over. The tabby sat himself down beside her and grinned._

"_Well, hey guys!" He purred._

"_Uh, Sunshine, Fogfrost, Robinfoot, Appleclaw, remember Timbermask?" Whitefang mewed awkwardly. _Why do you have to be here now? _She thought_ Can't I escape you for one night? _He was still smiling at her. As more cats arrived at the gathering, she was squashed into him and Robinfoot. Whitefang shuffled her paws and leaned into Timbermask uncomfortably. Their pelts touched, and he was so warm…Whitefang found it easier to get comfortable with him, and she relaxed into his shoulder. Appleclaw frowned._

It was the gathering after that where he was sharing tongues with a pretty young she-cat. Her name was Fernheart, and Appleclaw refused to speak to Whitefang. She had decided not to sit with them anymore. And instead she found herself sitting with Timbermask, which was stuffy and awkward, and again she found herself migrating toward Falconshade. His friends were kind. She didn't want to hurt them when she killed him.

"Whitefang? Hello?" Lightpaw mewed.

"Oh, sorry. Just thinking." She replied, snapping out of her reverie. Glancing up, she noticed the sun was nearly high.

"Come on, guys, it's practically midday. Catch at least one piece of prey and then I want you to run back to camp. I'll assess your catches there." Timbermask said. The apprentices nodded and darted off in different directions, leaving Whitefang and Timbermask standing awkwardly alone on the border. Unsure of what to do, Whitefang watched her paws as she scuffed the dirt floor of the forest. Timbermask cleared his throat, and she looked up.

"Whitefang, I wanted to talk to you…" He mewed.

"What?" She asked, confused, "Talk about what?"

"I don't-I can't- I don't know how it happened." Timbermask stammered, emerald eyes searching her face.

"How what happened?" Whitefang asked, feeling stupid. _Are questions all you can say? Idiot, you're better than this._

"I don't know how it happened, it was like, all of a sudden it was just there. You know?" Timbermask mewed pleadingly, as if begging her to understand. She was lost.

"Really, I don't know. I have absolutely no clue what you're trying to say. Or saying." Whitefang said, taking a step back. Her quarter friend…maybe half friend? was getting a bit too close for their boundaries. If she stepped any further, she'd end up on Riverclan territory.

"It's just-" Timbermask inhaled deeply, closing his eyes. When he opened them, it was like he was staring into her soul. Whitefang's stomach twisted uncomfortably. She felt like she might puke. The awkward intensity was way too much for her.

"Just what?" she squeaked, inching backwards, "Y'know, I think I have to, I mean I gotta go do some, uh, stuff…"

"I think I love you!" Timbermask blurted out. The forest went quiet.

**BAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA I feel like i just totally confused you guys. This story is a roller coaster. To be completely honest, I had no idea what I was even writing. Some of this was absolutely random. I think I confused myself in the process, but it worked! Like really well! Or, at least, I think it came out really well. **

**QOTD: So this was your special holiday chapter, full of feels. Tell me, what was the biggest OMFFFFFFFFG moment for you in this chapter?**

**I will see you soon. Like really soon. Probably today. **

**~Bright~**

**PS Check out WCC! I love the Holiday special I posted! Which is saying something, cause I rarely enjoy what I write...so yeah. Bye :)**


	46. Waiting At Sunset and Updated Alliances

**Next chapter! I loved your reactions to the last chapter! And in this one, since there are so many cats to keep track of, like I even forgot some of them freaking existed, I added an updated alliance. So yeah. Yay! BTW viewer discretion somewhere in here. I added a word some of you may not like, but the little swear adds some humor. I thought so, at least.**

"What?" Whitefang asked, dazed.

"I think I love you." Timbermask repeated, his voice slightly steadier.

"Timbermask, I-I'm…I don't think that's how it works." Whitefang stammered.

"What do you mean that's not how it works? I love you, Whitefang. I think I've loved you ever since we made the truce. Don't-don't you love me?" He asked softly. Whitefang shook her head.

"Timbermask, I don't. You're supposed to love my sister. It was you and Swanmist together, forever. I don't love you. I don't even know if we're friends. Everything you've ever done to me…" Whitefang trailed off, refusing to look at the tabby tom. _I remember a time when I loved you, Timbermask. And you hated me. I can't ever go back. You and I, we don't work. I don't love you._

"You don't want to be my mate." Timbermask said, emotionless, "You don't love me, Whitefang." His emerald eyes were dull now, less alive and passionate than they had been before. Whitefang felt the slightest bit bad for him, yet relieved as well. She remembered Whitefeather, and realized that her life was getting better here, in reality. She didn't want her dream life anymore.

"I don't. But…" The pale warrior steeled herself, "I think we could be friends."

"Friends." Timbermask repeated. A small flicker of light returned to his gaze.

"Full friends," Whitefang offered with a small smile. Timbermask dipped his head.

"If-if that's what you want, Whitefang. But I'll always be here for you. And if you ever change your mind…" The tabby looked up at her hopefully. Whitefang said nothing.

"They'll be wondering where we are if we don't get back to camp." The warrior meowed quickly, turning away from Timbermask and starting to walk back toward camp. Timbermask followed her.

The pair walked in silence.

* * *

><p>A low moan greeted Timbermask and Whitefang as they entered the camp. ?It grew steadily louder and was met with fearful whimpers.<p>

"What's going on here?" The pale warrior asked, glancing around, "Is someone hurt?"

"Mothwhisker began kitting just as you left for dawn patrol." Cherrynose said softly, coming to her friend's side in an instant.

"Isn't Shyfawn with her?" Whitefang wondered anxiously as the groaning intensified.

"No," Cherrynose shook her head, "It's half moon tonight, remember? Both she and Shiverpaw left the same time you did to get a head start."

"Who's in there with her then?" Timbermask asked gruffly, avoiding looking at Whitefang.

"Former queens. She's been in labor so long and losing energy…they're afraid." Cherrynose whispered, tail coiling around her own swelling stomach. Though she wasn't due for at least another two moons, Whitefang could sense the worry around the tortie queen.

"I'm sure Mothwhisker will be all right. And you will be too, when your time comes." Whitefang reassured her. Timbermask merely grunted. Whitefang shot him a look.

"What happened to _friends_?" She muttered under her breath as Cherrynose turned away to speak with Bouncestrike. The black tom nuzzled his mate and she rested her head on his shoulder, tails entwined. Timbermask's gaze softened and he looked at Whitefang sadly.

"I had wanted that to be us." He sighed. Whitefang shook her head brusquely.

"We're nothing more than friends, Timbermask." She replied. He sighed again and turned away to speak with the apprentices about their catches, and walked quickly past Addershriek, who was busy trying to calm Dawnstrike. Whitefang felt out of place in camp, where the queens were in the nursery, all of them, and nearly every other cat was out hunting or on patrol. She meandered over to the freshkill pile and was about to choose something juicy, when a shimmering silver face popped out of the nursery.

"We need raspberry leaves!" Paledove called. The cats in the clearing stared at her with blank faces, all except Whitefang. Spending innumerable amounts of time in the medicine cat's den when she had broken her foreleg made her slightly aware of herbs and their uses.

"I'll get it!" She shouted, dashing away.

"Hurry, Whitefang!" Paledove replied. The warrior started. Her mother had said her name. Her head spun as she reached the den and she shook herself to clear it. _Raspberry leaves…she said my name…raspberry leaves…she called me Whitefang…_She thought, swiftly sorting through the piles of herbs.

"Raspberry leaves!" She yelped once she found them, grasping a thick bundle in her jaws, along with some borage. _Starclan only knows if she'll need it._ Whitefang hurried across camp and practically lept through the small opening of the nursery.

"Thank you," Waterfall said, relief evident in her mew. Whitefang took a moment to look down into Mothwhisker's nest, where the small, dusky brown she-cat was struggling, soaked in perspiration. Her green eyes, the color of newly budded leaves, were half open and rapidly closing. Whitefang watched, frozen in place, as her own mother force-fed the laboring queen raspberry leaves. The instant Mothwhisker swallowed, the tension in her muscles seemed to release. For a moment, her eyes widened, and then she screamed. Whitefang crouched low and covered her ears as the gut-wrenching howl tore through the nursery. She heard Dawnstrike shout anxiously from outside, and the rustle of claws in the dirt of the clearing as Addershriek struggled to restrain him. More scuffling as Timbermask joined. The queens, however, weren't disturbed by the cry of pain that echoed through camp and lingered in the stuffy midday air.

"One more push!" Blueshine urged.

"You're almost there," Paledove breathed, her eyes misting. Whitefang watched her in wonder. This was not the Paledove she knew. Who was this kind, caring she-cat that stood by the side of a pain-addled queen? It certainly couldn't be _her_ mother.

"There!" Featherfall cried. A tiny, red tabby bundle lay squirming in the nest, having already freed itself from the birth sack, and was now very much active. Paledove laughed. Whitefang hadn't realized how beautiful her mother's laugh was. Like sunshine in a storm.

"A lovely she-kit! And she's a big one, too, no wonder you had so much trouble." Paledove purred, lifting the kitten and placing the squirming thing by Mothwhisker's belly. It batted at her while she moaned, but the second kit was faster than the first. He slid easily out of his mother and broke his own sack as his sister had. He swatted at Blueshine's nose as the queen hurried to pick him up.

"Oh! A little warrior already!" She smiled, nudging him toward his mother. Whitefang watched in awe as the kittens made mothers out of the monsters she knew. Mothwhisker's eyes were wide with wonder as she watched her kittens, her _living_ kittens, scuffle with each other over milk. Soon, though, both were suckling peacefully, albeit the occasional kick in the other's direction.

"They're so cute." Whitefang said softly. The queens turned to her, as if they had forgotten she was there. Blueshine's eyes darkened slightly, but then she spoke, and her tone was softer than usual.

"Thank you, Whitefang, for fetching the herbs. She needed the strength." The silver-blue queen meowed.

"First you help me, now Mothwhisker. You'd be a natural queen yourself!" Featherfall laughed.

"Wouldn't she." Paledove breathed, eyes resting on Whitefang for a mere second before flitting away, acting as if she hadn't spoken. Whitefang felt a curious pang in her heart.

"Thank you," Mothwhisker murmured, not tearing her eyes from the kits, "They're my angels."

"Starclan sent, I'd say." Waterfall gushed, "They're lovely." And indeed they were, Whitefang decided. The she-cat was a bright red tabby with a thick tail, just like her father. Her brother was just as large as she, but with dusty brown fur and a brown tabby striped tail. Whitefang wondered what their eyes would be, green or amber?

"Am I allowed in to see my own kits?" Dawnstrike rumbled from the clearing. Featherfall stuck her head outside and beckoned him in as she left, along with Blueshine. As the red tabby warrior entered, he purred with delight.

"Look at them! Aren't they little wonders. A pair of warriors, if I ever saw them! Look at that, they're feisty already. Great Starclan, I'm so proud of you." The tom leaned down to nuzzle his mate. Mothwhisker sighed happily.

"I've already thought of names." She smiled.

"Go on," Dawnstrike urged, gazing upon his children with pure love in his amber eyes.

"Pinekit for the tom," Mothwhisker said, and he nodded, "and Rosekit for the she-cat, after my mother."

"Wonderful." Dawnstrike sighed. Waterfall smiled warmly.

"Enjoy them while they're young, they won't be little forever!" She purred.

"They grow up so fast," Paledove murmured, glancing again at Whitefang, who held her head high. Paledove looked away again and rose to her paws, walking out of the nursery without another word. Whitefang shook her head, and left too. As she exited, she heard Waterfall mew softly:

"Your parents would be so proud, Mothwhisker. I'm sure they're watching from Starclan." Whitefang bit her tongue to keep from saying something. _I wish my mother were proud of me._ She thought. She stumbled around camp, her head spinning from both Paledove and Timbermask, her mind in a foggy daze. It felt like she had been in the nursery for mere moments, when the sun was already setting. Mothwhisker had been in labor basically all day. Whitefang's brain felt as if it were in labor as well. _What did Paledove mean? Timbermask loves me. I don't love him. Are we friends? Paledove, what does she want? What does she mean? How can he love me? I'm Whitefang. No cat can love me. All that do die. Or they drift away…no cat can afford to love me. Paledove knows. She's always known. She hurts me…he loves me…how can this be?_ She sat on the ground, head reeling. There was only one place she could go. One place she wanted to go. Standing up again, fighting off the dizziness, Whitefang padded across the clearing to the camp entrance. Timbermask didn't follow her this time. She was glad of it.

* * *

><p>Sitting along the border, Whitefang wondered why she came here. The moon wasn't even up. He wouldn't be here. Why did she want him to be there? To talk to him? To kill him? She didn't know. All she knew was that she wanted him there. She wanted her friend. A rustle sounded from the reeds.<p>

"Falconshade?" She asked, not taking into consideration what would happen if it wasn't him.

"Whitefang? What're you doing here, the sun hasn't even set!" The dark ginger tabby asked.

"I could ask the same of you," Whitefang pointed out, blinking to clear away the thick mist over her brain.

"I always come here at sunset." He mewed simply.

"Why?" She asked.

"To wait for you." He replied with a smile. Then, his smile faded as she didn't return it.

"I'm so confused." Whitefang mumbled.

"Is it because of what that tom said to you this morning?" Falconshade asked angrily.

"I-wait, what? How did you know about that? That-that's personal! Private!" Whitefang blustered.

"Aren't I allowed to hunt on my own territory and overhear a conversation?" Falconshade teased to lighten the mood. Whitefang was not enlightened.

"Did you hear everything?" She asked suspiciously.

"A few words here and there. Especially the whole: 'I think I love you' part." Falconshade said casually, "and I caught the 'I don't love you, Timbermask'."

"So, basically you heard everything." Whitefang sighed, feeling slightly relieved she didn't have to retell the tale.

"What I didn't hear was what was going on inside your head. I can tell when you're thinking, Whitefang. You're always thinking. But you were thinking really hard this morning." Falconshade mewed, looking at her with concern. Whitefang felt slightly nauseous at the thought of telling him. _But I'm going to kill him anyway, so it doesn't matter._

"I was thinking about…" Whitefang began, only to trail off. She didn't want to speak about her sister in front of her murderer. That would hurt her even more than watching her die, spilling all her secrets to the tom who split her blood. "About how he had tormented me as a kit. He never liked me. No one liked me."

"I like you." Falconshade said.

"Yeah, well, you're besides the point," Whitefang rolled her eyes, _I'm trying to make you like me so I can kill you, you dumb fuck._ "And he and his littermates did awful things to me. I had a crush on him at the time too, which really stunk. And now I can't trust him. I really can't love him. I don't, and I don't think I ever will." She finished. Falconshade studied her.

"There's a lot going on behind those golden eyes, Whitefang. But I guess you'll tell me when you're ready." The tom meowed. Whitefang sighed. _Like I'd ever tell you. I made a promise to kill you, and I don't break my promises, ever. Especially not this one. But you don't trust me yet, do you? Only a little longer, a few more nights…_

"I think I should head home. My friends will be wondering where I am." She lied._ They were all too busy with their own lives to give a foxdung about me._ She thought angrily.

"If you ever need me, Whitefang, I'll be right here." Falconshade purred, "Waiting at sunset."

"Okay." She said softly. She hated herself for meaning it.

* * *

><p>It felt strange, Timbermask prodding her awake that morning when she knew what he thought about her. Like things would never go back to normal. <em>Then again, we never really had a normal.<em>

* * *

><p><strong>Yay for a new chapter updated so soon1 I am like wicked proud of myself. Like yeah.<strong>

**QOTD: Paledove was acting a little strange today. What do you think of that?**

**I will see y'all when I update next, review review review with your thoughts, comments, and overall pieces of insight and randomness! And for those interested, curious folks, I've got the alliances of all known alive characters jotted down below.**

**~Bright~**

* * *

><p><em><span><strong>Alliances<strong>_

_**Shadowclan:**_

_Leader:_ Hollowstar- dark tortoiseshell tom, green eyes

_Deputy:_ Stonetail- gray tom with a white splash on his chest, golden eyes, and flecks of silver creeping onto his muzzle

_Medicine cat-_ Shyfawn- small, old orange and black tortie she-cat with blue eyes and one white paw

Apprentice_- _Shiverpaw

_Warriors:_

Kestrelwind- dappled cinnamon she-cat, amber eyes

Dawnstrike- red tabby tom with a long tail and amber eyes

Blueshine- silver-blue she-cat with light green eyes

Addershriek- dark brown tom with hazel eyes

Waterfall- pale gray she-cat with dark gray paws, green eyes

Icegaze- white tom with silver eyes

Quietdream- gray and cream tortie with pale green eyes

Duckflight- dark ginger she-cat with shining blue eyes

Grayshadow- thick furred gray and black tom with hazel eyes

Paledove- light silver she-cat, glowing blue eyes

Featherfall- dappled brown she-cat with bright copper eyes

Rainwing- silver-blue she-cat with mint green eyes

Timbermask- brown tabby tom with deep green eyes

Bouncestrike- sleek black tom with amber eyes

Whitefang- large, thick furred, white she-cat with a perpetually tangled pelt, golden eyes

Sparrowtail- dark tortie tom with a bright white tail tip and green eyes

Blizzardpelt- black tom with white legs, underbelly and flecks on his head, green eyes

Doestep- dappled brown she-cat with wide copper eyes

_Apprentices:_

Fadingpaw- feisty silver/blue eyed she-cat with a black muzzle, paws, and tail tip, the rest of her fur a gradient of grays

Stormpaw- large gray furred tom with one white ear, and shining clover green eyes

Shiverpaw- very pale gray she-at with flecks of white like leopard spots all over her fur

Lightpaw- cheerful golden tom with a white face, stomach, chest, and paws, red-amber eyes like his father

_Queens:_

Mothwhisker- dusty brown she-cat, frail and slender, with light green eyes; mother to Dawnstrike's kits (Rosekit- red tabby she-cat with amber eyes; Pinekit- dusty brown tom with a tabby striped tail and amber eyes)

Cherrynose-dark tortoiseshell she-cat, deep blue eyes, expecting Bouncestrike's kits

_Elders:_

Frecklestep- dark gray tom flecked with white, yellow eyes

Jumpfire- Black tom with a dark orange blaze on his forehead, dull copper eyes

Lostwind- fawn colored tabby she-cat, blind in one eye

_**Thunderclan**_

_Leader: _Dewstar- large gray tom with amber eyes

_Deputy: _Nightblaze- Pure black tom with white paws and blue eyes

_Medicine cat:_ Lilyshine- dark tabby she-cat with white patches, green eyes

_Warriors:_

Sunblaze- known as Sunshine, pleasant yellow furred she-cat with orange eyes

Appleclaw- Large, handsome cream colored tom, ice blue eyes

Fogfrost- Moody, handsome silver tom, green eyes

Robinfoot- beautiful brown tabby she-cat, amber eyes

_Queens:_

Birchrunner- cream tabby she-cat with amber eyes, mother to Fogfrost's kits (Cedarkit- cream tabby tom with amber eyes; Smokekit- silver tom with green eyes; Hawkkit- silver tom with amber eyes; Owlkit- dilute tortie (cream, white, gray) with green eyes)

_**Windclan:**_

_Leader: _Wildstar- fawn colored she-cat with pale gold eyes

_Deputy: _Barkscar- white and dark tabby tom with one green eye and one amber eye

_Medicine cat: _Daypetal- white she-cat with one golden paw and pale blue eyes

_**Riverclan:**_

_Leader: _Shimmerstar- dark silver tabby she-cat, amber eyes

_Deputy: _Streamrunner

_Medicine cat: _Lionsmane-dark golden tom with thick fur and hazel eyes

_Warriors:_

Troutfur-large brown tom

Hazelnose-skinny brown and white she-cat, green eyes

Flintfoot-brindle-pelted tom with shining blue eyes

Falconshade- thick pelted dark ginger tabby tom with summer-sky blue eyes


	47. Don't Fall

**It is _so_ interesting seeing all of your ships. Especially since I know where this story is going. I wonder, though, whether to change the plot. Nah, too lazy. The original's a pretty good heart wringer though.**

After a day full of training, all Whitefang wanted was to sleep. The stiff tension with Timbermask, so thick you could slice it with your claws and make it bleed, had hovered over her all day. Its presence was suffocating. Whitefang wanted her nice, soft nest in the corner of the warrior's den. She wanted to lie down and fall asleep. She figured she would skip this one night with Falconshade. She was exhausted.

The apprentices bounced their way through the camp entrance ahead of her, and Timbermask waited behind. She blew past him without a second thought. The tension was gone as she left him behind. Whitefang let out a small sigh of relief.

"Hey, Whitefang!" Cherrynose called pleasantly from beside Bouncestrike. They were sharing a squirrel and cuddling. Whitefang walked past awkwardly.

"Hey, guys. I'm, uh, really tired. Gonna skip dinner." She mumbled, feeling uncomfortable as they paid her no attention, instead making doe eyes at each other as they chewed. She fought the urge to puke. Moving on after they didn't reply, Whitefang was called again.

"Whitefang, want to join us?" Doestep asked eagerly, patting a spot on the dying grass beside her and Sparrowtail. Blizzardpelt was off sharing tongues with Duckflight. Needless to say she would be receiving no invitation from them. Whitefang shuffled her paws and gazed longingly toward the warrior's den.

"Ah, I see, long day of training. No hard feelings. Go get some sleep! You deserve it." Sparrowtail nodded.

"Thanks," She sighed, hurrying away.

"Wait, Whitefang!" Rainwing called.

"What?" Whitefang asked exasperatedly.

"Well, I know my brother was a jerk for a long time, and I was too, but do you think you could-" The silver/blue she-cat began to ask. Whitefang cut her off quickly.

"I don't like him that way, Rainwing. Can I just go to bed?" She asked, though her question was far more of an irritated statement.

"Okay, okay. Goodnight." Rainwing gave in. Just as she was about to enter the nice, quiet warrior's den, Whitefang was intercepted by her father.

"Before you go to bed, sweetheart, just have a little something to eat. It's not healthy to go to sleep on an empty stomach. Come sit with me." Stonetail pleaded gently.

"Oh, alright. For you." Whitefang sighed heavily. She followed her father over to a shaded spot near the elder's den. Many warriors, on their way to share tongues with their other clanmates, stopped by to greet the deputy and his daughter kindly. Whitefang was still wary of all the attention. Coming on so suddenly, it was like a dream. But, of course, she had never assumed her dreams would come true. _How I wish I was asleep…_Whitefang took a few quick bites of vole, and once her mouth was full, Paledove decided to join her and Stonetail for a meal. Whitefang glanced cautiously at her mother as she chewed, wondering if the pale as moonbeams she-cat was going to say anything about her strangeness the day before.

"So, how was training today?" Stonetail asked casually, hoping to spark some kind of conversation.

"Exhausting. Honestly, I can't wait for their warrior ceremony. I feel like there's so much to teach them, but they end up catching on so quickly it's as if they knew it all anyway!" Whitefang said in between quick chews of her vole. _I guess I chose a tough one. _She thought, wincing as a sneaky sliver of bone pierced her palate. _Figures._

"There's almost nothing better than being a mentor, I say." Stonetail purred.

"Being mother," Paledove countered softly. Whitefang shot her a look. _A mother? You were hardly a mother to me._

"Speaking of which, I heard Timbermask was interested in you, Whitefang." Stonetail mewed. Whitefang stiffened.

"Well, I'm not interested in him. He was Swanmist's. He still is Swanmist's. I already told her I'm never going to have a mate or kits." Whitefang stated. Paledove's eyes widened and began to fill with tears. Whitefang froze with shock. So startled by her mother's sudden emotions, she forgot to swallow. The freshest bite of un-chewed vole hung from her jaws limply. She was too astonished to care.

"You-you've got to get over your sister's death, Whitefang." Paledove said quietly, choking on her own words. Whitefang watched as her mother spoke, not wanting to move. She felt as if she even flicked an ear, it would startle Paledove, like she was a quick, frightened woodland creature.

"She's right, darling." Stonetail meowed, yet he made no mention of giving Timbermask a chance. For that, she was grateful.

"I know it's hard…it's hard for everyone, especially you, and-" Paledove began.

"How would you know what's hard for me? It's not like you ever bothered wondering about my life before!" Whitefang snapped, spitting out her last bit of vole and storming off into the warrior's den. Her parents didn't try to follow her; she heard her mother crying softly as she left. Whitefang flung herself into her nest and squeezed her eyes shut tight. She rolled over and pressed herself to sleep. _I'll skip a night. Falconshade won't miss me._ She thought, but his voice rang true I her head. _'I'll be right here, waiting at sunset.' He purred. His blue eyes sparkled, like stars had landed in the midday sky of Greenleaf's most beautiful day. The falling sun set his dark ginger pelt aflame and he glowed like an ember in the midst of the forest._ Whitefang remembered him from the night before. _Why am I thinking of him? I should be sleeping. _But it kept tugging at the back of her mind. She opened her eyes and closed them again, only to swim in visions of ginger and blue._ Fine._ She thought to herself angrily. _Fine, I'll go._ She snuck out the back of the warrior's den, through the patch she had had forgotten about-and never bothered fixing.

"Falconshade?" She called quietly as she crept along the border.

"Here," He replied. She could hear him grinning. Once she emerged from the underbrush, and caught sight of his glowing pelt and shimmering gaze, she felt instantly better. It was as if this murderous tom was some sort of herb. She hated the notion.

"Always here at sunset," she smiled, seating herself beside him, so close to crossing the border that she could feel the heat from his pelt.

"Of course," He chuckled lightly, "But you're not usually here until the moon rises."

"Maybe I couldn't sleep." She admitted.

"Couldn't sleep? Probably because you couldn't bear the thought of missing out on my rugged looks, and roguish charm." He swaggered, raising a paw to his chest and looking at Whitefang seductively. She laughed.

"Oh, are you sure I didn't come just for that atmosphere?" She asked airily, gesturing about with her plumy white tail.

"It is beautiful, this time of the season." Falconshade agreed, letting all egotistical pretenses drop as he admired the border. The Riverclan reeds were turning a warm golden as Greenleaf changed to Leaffall, and Shadowclan's trees were gaining color as well. Soft reds, golds, and oranges were peeking through the green and brown foliage. Even the breeze was crisper, hinting at colder weather to come. But the setting sun warmed their backs and chased the chill away, leaving the threat of frost for another day.

"I think it may be my favorite," Whitefang sighed, "The beauty of it all helps with escaping everything else."

"Something specific on your mind?" Falconshade asked, looking at her. The sun's brilliant glow lit up her golden eyes, leaving them to shine with its last light.

"Yes, I guess." She giggled as she rhymed. But she soon turned serious again. "My mother."

"And what about her? I haven't heard you mention her before." Falconshade said curiously.

"There's a reason for that. I try to avoid talking about her. Thinking about her, too, really." Whitefang sighed, forgetting she was speaking to an enemy warrior.

"Why?" Falconshade inquired.

"She's terrible. She was never a mother. She never liked me, always ignored me or scoffed at me, turning me away. She liked my sister better." Whitefang nearly lapsed into speaking about Swanmist. She shut up about her sister after that, instead describing the nonexistent relationship with Paledove. "And then, she tries to talk to me today! Tries to _advise_ me on how to let go and I just-UGH! I can't take her anymore. I know I'm the disgrace, she can stop looking at me like one!"

"You're not a disgrace." Falconshade frowned.

"Oh, yes I am!" Whitefang cried in distress, "I'm the ugly one: my ears tilts to the left more than the other, my fur is always dirty and matted and wild, my whiskers are too short, my eyelashes are stubs, my paws are too big, I'm too big, I'm clumsy, I'm not talented, I'm just a hideous cat!" She sobbed, "No wonder Paledove never loved me!"

"Stop it." Falconshade growled, "You're beautiful. And this is coming from a tom you barely know. I feel like I'm your friend, Whitefang. I want to be your friend. And to me, you're smart, and funny, and interesting, and from what I hear and see, you're talented. So talented! And you're beautiful. Your fur is like freshly fallen snow, your eyes are blazing suns, your whiskers are just the right length, and for Starclan's sake, who cares about your eyelashes? What tom bases a she-cat off of her eyelashes? Your ears are so cute, the way they're lopsided with the little tufts at the tips. Your fur is so thick and soft; it's like a blanket of white moss. Who cares if it's tangled? I like it that way. And your paws…they're perfectly round, and anyone who sees them knows you're strong. I love how you're big. Tiny she-cats are fragile. And your tail, oh, I could sleep in it: it's so wonderful! It's adorable how you're clumsy, and how you think all the time. I'd love to know what you think about. And your laugh-it's like bubbles in a sunlit stream, floating and bobbing and swirling…and-" He paused, looking at Whitefang, who was watching him as he ranted with great interest.

"Go on," She laughed.

"I'm talking too much, aren't I?" He flushed, but he didn't look away, "I'm just telling you, Whitefang, any tom would be lucky to have you."

"Thank you," Whitefang smiled, "I think that's the sweetest thing anyone's ever said to me."

"Any time." Falconshade grinned. He flopped onto the ground with a loud exhale, thoroughly exhausted by his wild rant. Whitefang fell beside him. Together, they watched the stars come out, and the moon rise high into the sky. It was the best night Whitefang had in weeks.

_I've gained his trust!_ She thought gleefully once she arrived back at camp. _I've gained it! It'll all be over soon, Swanmist._ She decided. Though it was with a curious pang in her heart that she did.

* * *

><p>"Have you ever seen a feather?" Whitefang asked them.<p>

"What's a feather?" Rosekit wondered, staring up at the pale warrior with wide amber eyes. For a mere few days old, the tiny kit was already large and rambunctious. She was full of curiosity, enough to satisfy both her and her brother. But, of course, Pinekit always had to do things his own way.

"What _is_ a feather, Whitefang?" Pinekit pleaded, "Tell us, tell us!"

"A feather is like fur, but for a bird." Whitefang said, sitting down as the pair, Shadowclan's only current kittens, pranced about her paws. Rosekit's bright, red tabby fur was fluffed up with excitement. Pinekit's dusty brown pelt was as well, his tabby striped tail flicking back and forth eagerly. Whitefang smiled.

"What's a bird, Whitefang?" Pinekit inquired, leaning on her forepaw. He was barely as big as it. She chuckled.

"A bird is a creature that flies." She replied simply.

"What does 'fly' mean?" Rosekit asked.

"To fly is a very special thing. Cats, that's you and I, can't do it. Only birds and bugs can fly. To fly is to be in the air, and move freely through the sky with wings." Whitefang sighed. She remembered her sister in that moment. What she would give to soar through the trees like birds with Swanmist once again!

"What are wings? Why can't we fly?" Pinekit bombarded her with questions. Whitefang purred. The kittens were adorable, with their wide eyes and open hearts, their minds flitting and curious.

"Wings are like our legs! Birds and bugs use them to fly by going like this!" Whitefang grinned goofily, flapping her forelegs up and down in a silly rendition of flight. The kits giggled and clambered on the white warrior like termites on a log.

"But you haven't told us what a bird looks like, Whitefang! And you haven't shown us a bug, or a wing, or a feather!" Rosekit squeaked.

"Yeah!" Pinekit nodded, tiny brown head bobbing up and down like a twig in the wind.

"Well, aren't you right!" Whitefang gasped in mock surprise, "Would you like a badger ride to where the birds are?"

"Yes, yes, yes!" The kittens squealed.

"Let's goooo!" Whitefang cheered, the kits clinging to her back as she rambled through camp. Cherrynose laughed with delight at the sight of her friend and the little ones. Mothwhisker watched pleasantly from the entrance to the nursery, where she sat with Dawnstrike. The normally serious, sullen tom's eyes lit up as Whitefang played jovially with his children. Mothwhisker sighed happily and leaned into him, and they sat basking in the warm sunlight and each other's company.

"Where are we going, Whitefang?" Rosekit squealed.

"We're going to the freshkill pile!" Whitefang said.

"Wow!" Pinekit squeaked.

"All kits, please exit toward the rear of the-Ow! Watch it!" Whitefang exclaimed as the tiny pair slid down onto the ground off her muzzle. They giggled at the look on her face.

"So where's the bird, Whitefang? The thing that flies?" Pinekit asked innocently.

"Right…here!" Whitefang grinned, lifting a sparrow off the pile and plopping it down in front of the two kits.

"Whoa!" Pinekit squeaked.

"Is this a bird or a bug, Whitefang?" Rosekit asked.

"This is a bird," Whitefang explained, "And these are wings," she lifted the two appendages momentarily, and then let them fall, "And _this_ is a feather!" She pried a long, gray-brown primary from the left wing of the swallow and placed it on the ground. The kittens regarded it reverently.

"It's so pretty. Are they all this color?" Pinekit asked.

"No, some are blue, some are red, or even yellow, but most are brown." Whitefang meowed, "go ahead, don't be shy. Touch it." She purred. Both Rosekit and Pinekit crept forward and prodded the feather with their miniscule paws, each no larger than a small river stone worn smooth.

"It's so…soft." Rosekit whispered.

"Yeah, softer than moss." Pinekit agreed with awe in his voice.

"And guess what? You can do this!" Whitefang cried, snatching the feather from them and tossing it in the air. The kittens lept after it gleefully.

"It's flying, Whitefang!" Rosekit squealed as the feather drifted through the clear air on the soft, early Leaffall breeze.

"I almost caught it, did you see that, Whitefang?" Pinekit gasped, jumping like a furry grasshopper to reach the feather. It lazily drifted closer, only to be blown upwards by the gusts of air disturbed by flailing paws.

"Look, mama! Look what we can do!" Rosekit called to her mother playfully, excitedly.

"I see! Aren't you jumping so high!" Mothwhisker purred from across the camp to her children, pride in her voice. Rosekit beamed happily and paused in her feather-chasing to scramble over to Whitefang.

"Thank you, Whitefang. For showing us feathers and birds and wings. Someday, I'll be the first cat to fly." The tiny she-kit said earnestly.

"I'm sure you will be," Whitefang murmured, licking the little kit's ear, "Go play. Pinekit's almost caught the feather!"

"No!" Rosekit gasped, dashing off to her brother, "I'm gonna catch it first! And I'm gonna build my wings and fly!" Rosekit called.

"Don't fall," Whitefang breathed.

* * *

><p>"You're a natural with those kits, you know." Timbermask meowed as the pair watched their apprentices duel in the clearing. The first leaves were changing colors, and cast a warm glow over the training hollow.<p>

"Oh, I don't know. Swanmist was better." Whitefang said evasively. It was still difficult to speak normally with the tabby tom.

"I don't think so," Timbermask mused, "She wasn't nearly as free as you are."

"Free?" Whitefang asked, confused. She had always thought of herself as a prisoner. A prisoner in her body, mind, and Clan. _But somehow…_She thought, _Things are changing. They're starting to like me. Maybe, just maybe, instead of a prison, it will be a home._

"Free." Timbermask repeated, nodding, "You act carefree, and excited. You act as if you were a kit, instead of a warrior."

"Isn't that childish?" Whitefang snorted, feeling self-conscious now about her performance with the kits that morning.

"No. It's free spirited. Playful. Fun. It's so _you_ Whitefang. You know, you'd make a wonderful mother." He said, looking at her with his large, hopeful emerald eyes. Whitefang turned away.

"I already told Swanmist, and I'm going to tell you now, I have no intention of having a mate. Or kits. Love can only hurt people, Timbermask." Whitefang sighed.

"But Whitefang, _I _love you! I'll give you everything, and we could be so happy-" Timbermask insisted.

"No. And that is _final_." Whitefang growled. The apprentices were fighting beautifully. She decided to watch them instead of listening to Timbermask. Stormpaw could duck and swipe nearly perfectly, and Fadingpaw was almost done topping off her rolling maneuver with a leap and hold.

Watching them fight was like watching a pair of falcons in the midst of a sky-scraping duel, or a storm clouds rumbling into a clear sky. It was a violent dance, a dance of death, with triumph and defeat through a nearly never-ending cycle. Each spin, each slash, each roll was move of grace and finesse, two partners swirling about a ballroom of dried grasses and woodland with infinite flair. Their steps refined as they whirl about, the pair demonstrate their advancements in silence, the entire forest watching their cavorting manner. It comforted Whitefang that no matter how things changed, even as they changed for the better, some things would stay the same. The art of battle would forever be a deadly waltz between friend and foe.

Whitefang sighed. It used to be that; a deadly dance between herself and Timbermask, or even the rest of the Clan. Now, instead, it felt as if she were walking on eggshells around her former enemy, and traipsing about the rest of her clanmates, as if she were loved. It seemed strange to her, this burst of affection. She had told herself she wouldn't feel again. She had tried and tried to push things away so hard…everything felt fake, now. Everything that came from her, anyway. Timbermask's warmth seemed to ring true, and the other cats acted sincere. But with her…_The only time I feel anything but uncomfortable is with the apprentices. Or Stonetail, or the kits. Or even-_ She gulped –_with Falconshade. Cherrynose and Bouncestrike are far too smitten. The others I've known all my life, yet seem like strangers. What am I doing?_

The dance had ended. Fadingpaw was on top, as usual, though Stormpaw always put up a good fight, he could never seem to finish it. _Is that me with Falconshade? Am I avoiding killing him, telling myself one more day, one more day? It's been a little more than two moons of my meeting him at night. He should trust me by now, right? Right…he should. I'll kill him tonight. This is it; I'm going to stop dancing right now. I'm going to end it. Maybe, when I end my performance, Stormpaw will learn to finish his own._

**Whoa, that's a lot of thinking, Whitefang.**

**QOTD: Do you want her to kill Falconshade? What is up with that tom anyway?**

**^review and read on to find out!**

**Man, this was an interesting chapter to write. Hahahahahaha I'm tired. I have school tomorrow. Ew. And two tests on tuesday. Yikes. Why can't break last all year?**

**Love you lotssss,**

**~Bright~**


	48. Murderer

**Wow, i realized the longer you let a chapter sit, the more reviewers are compelled to review. Maybe I should update slower all the time :D**

**As I said before, your ships are soooo interesting. Like honestly I find reading them so amusing. **

The gathering was tonight. Whitefang had prepared herself. She went on a long run with Stormpaw after battle training, and they had even matched themselves against each other a few times. Neither could finish it. _I'll finish it tonight._ Whitefang thought, plucking a starling from the freshkill pile and sitting down alone to eat. _Alone with my thoughts. They're all I need right now. And tonight, it will be quick. I'll kill him and it will all be over._ She tried not to focus on the actual fight. She knew what she would do, though. She'd coax him away from the gathering. Once in the forest, she would leap at him and slash his throat. Though she would've preferred to tear open his stomach, as he had done to Swanmist, the throat would be quicker and easier to clean up. Then, she'd carry the body to the shore, fill its mouth with rocks, and watch it sink to the bottom of the lake. She'd then clean herself up and tell her clanmates she had had to make dirt but stepped in some toadstools, smelled horrendous, and had to wash up. It was foolproof. No other cat knew who killed Swanmist. It was all so simple, so neat and clean and perfect that it nearly made her sick when she thought about it. Maybe it was too neat. Too clean. So perfect that it wouldn't work.

_I'll make it work._ She thought, wolfing down the last few bites of her starling in one large gulp.

"Whitefang, Whitefang!" Stormpaw called, hurrying over to her as she made her way slowly across camp.

"What is it?" She asked, watching over her apprentice's shoulder as her leader prepared to announce the names of the cats going to the gathering. _Oh, I hope he chooses me. I have unfinished business there, Hollowstar, let me go!_

"I was just wondering when our assesments will be, Whitefang. We've been training really hard. Fadingpaw, Lightpaw and I just wanted to know when…?" He trailed off, looking up at her hopefully. Well, he didn't even look up at her anymore. He had grown so much. Whitefang regarded him fondly, as if he were a little brother, or even a close friend. Though, he was basically a brother. His mother was far more of a mother to Whitefang than Paledove ever was. Stormpaw, well, he was tall enough to look Whitefang in the eyes now when he spoke, clover green against shining gold, and his shoulder matched hers in width and muscle. His paws, still larger than hers, betrayed that he would grow even further. Fadingpaw, in contrast, was lithe and petit, fully grown, the tips of her ears barely brushing her brother's heightened shoulders. Her size was no indication of power, however, she always beat Stormpaw, and the gleam in her eyes during battle revealed her ferocity. She was no kitten. Lightpaw, too, had grown even more than he already had. The golden and white tom's face had lost the last of its kitten-like softness, his amber-red eyes were mature and so like his late father's. He wasn't quite as large as Whitefang and Stormpaw, but he was still a powerful and formidable enemy. His assessment would be with the other two's, though he was considerably early.

"They'll be here soon, don't you worry. There's plenty to learn still!" Whitefang laughed. Stormpaw nodded and bounded off to his sister, who was grooming herself meticulously in preparation for the gathering.

"It wasn't so long ago you were hobbling into the nursery to get a good look at them." A soft, wistful voice sounded from behind Whitefang.

"Waterfall!" She purred in surprise, turning to find her old mentor looking after her two kits, and glancing toward the other, who was walking slowly out of the Medicine cat's den with Shyfawn. Shiverpaw was a little bigger than Fadingpaw, even without the extensive battle training and rigorous hunting practice. Shiverpaw's eyes shone a bright, clear clover green like her brother's and betrayed a wisdom and patience beyond her years. It happens that way when you're apprenticed to an elderly mentor whose former apprentice died only recently after receiving her name. Shiverpaw had grown into a lovely young she-cat, and Waterfall's pride was clear as she followed her daughter's every step with gleaming eyes.

"They're nearly grown up." Waterfall sighed.

"Yes. Soon those two will be warriors, fighting their own battles and launching into flurries of young warrior mischief." Stonetail said, coming up behind the two she-cats, "I know that feeling well." He smiled, looking at Whitefang.

"I just don't want them to grow up. If they had stayed kittens forever, I might be happier. I'd feel like they were safe." Waterfall whispered.

"Don't worry, Timbermask and I trained them well. They'll be patrol leaders, war heroes, and loyal clanmates. I'm sure they'll make you proud." Whitefang reassured.

"They already are." Waterfall replied.

"You can't snuggle them in a nest in the nursery forever." Stonetail said sadly, "Sometimes, no matter how hard it is, you've got to let them go." His voice was so heavy; Whitefang pressed herself to him. The loss of Swanmist would never truly go away. But to the pale warrior, some sort of closure would occur once the murder was gone. _Tonight._

"Do you remember the first time I came into the nursery to see them?" Whitefang giggled, watching the apprentices chatter eagerly.

"Yes, you and your broken leg." Waterfall purred, "Trying to convince Shyfawn you had a right to see them. I remember."

"And she gave in eventually, and I saw the kits with Swanmist. They were so small and cute…" Whitefang sighed.

"And I remember when they were apprenticed. I had suggested to Hollowstar that you mentor one of them, and he said he had already decided which you would take…he was adamant that it would be Stormpaw. I was so relieved…knowing that one of my kits was surely going to have one of the greatest mentors in the forest." Waterfall smiled.

"All thanks to you and Addershriek!" Whitefang purred, "Remember when you were in the nursery, and Addershriek trained me? I came back to camp everyday aching all over and complaining to Barkpaw." Her heart panged painfully at the thought of her old friend. No doubt by now he had a litter of crimson pelted kits to go with his right flank mate. She hated thinking about him. He was supposed to be dead. _Coward._

"You would complain about everything," Stonetail snorted.

"I did not!" Whitefang protested. Stonetail laughed, and opened his mouth to reply. Hollowstar's voice rang out instead.

"Shadowclan! It has been decided who will attend the gathering tonight." Stonetail nodded to the two she-cats and padded over to the leader, and stood beside him. Shyfawn and Shiverpaw were already there.

"Those attending are as follows: Paledove, Dawnstrike, Rainwing, Sparrowtail, Featherfall, Fadingpaw, Timbermask, Whitefang, Stormpaw, Quietdream, Lightpaw, and Blizzardpelt." Hollowstar finished. Whitefang padded up towards the entrance to camp, watching as the two elders, only two because Lostwind was growing too old and frail to walk, joined Stonetail, Hollowstar, and the medicine cats at the front. She found herself walking beside Timbermask and Lightpaw.

"Hey, Whitefang!" Lightpaw grinned, "I hear our warrior assesments are coming up." He winked, "You're gonna give me a good score, right? After all, we had some pretty rough times together in twolegplace…I did save you from almost killing my brother. Extra credit?" He asked.

"In your dreams, cheeky." Whitefang laughed, "You're gonna work for your name just like your father did!"

"Alright, alright, when you put it like that…" Lightpaw said, giving up a little.

"Are you giving out that infamous attitude again, kid?" Blizzardpelt asked exasperatedly, looking at Lightpaw from over his shoulder.

"You're just upset Duckflight couldn't come." Lightpaw rolled his eyes. Timbermask and Whitefang snickered as the black ad white tom blustered and turned away.

"Good one," Timbermask grinned.

"That was low, Lightpaw." Whitefang laughed.

"Hey, truth is truth, amiright?" He shrugged, smirking.

"That twolegplace sass is gonna get you in trouble one day." Timbermask teased.

"Ah, but so are my charms and dashing looks!" Lightpaw exclaims, batting his eyelashes, "Don't think I haven't seen the way your apprentice has been looking at me lately, Timbermask." He winked.

"Fadingpaw!" Timbermask groaned.

"I swear to Starclan, that she-cat's got a thing for me." Lightpaw grinned, "And I hate to break her heart, but Doestep is a sexy thang."

"Thang?" Whitefang asked bemusedly, cuffing the tom over the ears.

"Darn right!" Lightpaw hooted, "I'm gonna sit next to her tonight. And ooooh, looks like it's pretty crowded in here…oops! Looks like we're squished here together…" He shot Whitefang and Timbermask suggestive looks. Timbermask pretended to gag.

"Smooth moves, charmer." Whitefang gasped for breath between fits of laughter.

"Not my fault the ladies can't resist me. In the Sanctum, did you see the way Sharice was looking at me? I could've started my own purdah!" Lightpaw exclaimed.

"Oh, you mean with utter dislike and disgust? Yeah, that purdah would've been _great_." Whitefang mewed sarcastically, rolling her eyes and ignoring Timbermask's confusion.

"Or Alpha's mate," Lightpaw continued, they never used Barkpaw's real name when they discussed the Sanctum, "I seriously think she was checking me out. She was a _hawtie_." Lightpaw meowed in his most obnoxious, nasally voice.

"And you're _ridiculous_!" Whitefang mimicked him. They both cracked up, Timbermask laughing awkwardly beside them.

"Uhhhh when was this? And why wasn't I invited?" He asked, feigning hurt.

"Trust me, you wouldn't have wanted to come." Whitefang said, turning serious. Lightpaw's eyes darkened and he nodded.

"Poking fun at it's really the only way to talk about the whole ordeal without shivering." He added.

"Speaking of which, have you talked to your uncle about visiting your mother?" Whitefang asked. Lightpaw shook his head.

"Not yet. I want to know how they're getting on, but I want to get my name first, and complete my training. Proving loyalty is my priority right now." He answered.

"But everyone loves you!" Timbermask said, pausing as the cats ahead of them began to cross the tree bridge.

"That's the thing. I want to be _respected_ not just _liked._ They're completely different." Lightpaw explained.

"Very true." Whitefang nodded.

"I guess I can see where you're coming from." Timbermask agreed. The trio crossed the bridge to the island in silence, trying not to slide on the tree trunk as the humidity made the bark slimy and slick. Once they reached the island, the enormity about what Whitefang was about to do hit her, and the heavy cloud of dread and worry returned. _It will be fast, Swanmist, and it will all be over._ The island dirt was warm and soft under her paws, and the heat and threat of rain was heavy in the air. It felt more like mid-Greenleaf than the beginning of Leaffall. Her eyes searched the crowd hurriedly, the faster she killed him the better. Then, she spotted him. Gleaming dark ginger fur shone, and she felt a pang of irrational emotion she couldn't place as she realized he was amidst a circle of she-cats. Beautiful Riverclan she-cats.

"Hey, Whitefang, where are you going?" Timbermask asked. Lightpaw had already disappeared, intent on finding Doestep.

"To find some friends. I'll see you later!" she called, vanishing into the sea of cats, shaking the tabby off her trail. Finally, she saw him give up and pad dejectedly over to his sister. Feeling accomplished, Whitefang kept weaving through the clumps of social cats. She didn't get far.

"Hey!" Sunshine called. Whitefang hadn't spoken to her in a while.

"Oh, uh, hi!" Whitefang greeted her awkwardly.

"We've been wondering where you went off to! Come on, come over." Sunshine implored.

"Oh, maybe for a little while. I was going to find a friend…" She trailed off when she realized the peppy yellow she-cat wasn't listening.

"Hey, Whitefang!" Fogfrost grinned.

"Where's your sister?" Whitefang asked.

"Stuck in the nursery!" He snickered, "Which is too bad. Her belly's big, sure, but she's got to put up with my four. Great Starclan, they were acting so bouncy when I left I doubt any Thunderclan cat will get any sleep tonight!"

"Oh," Whitefang mewed, glancing around and feeling out of place. A pretty, small gray she-cat was clinging to Appleclaw's side, and the tom was ignoring her. There were two other cats she didn't know there, too. She missed Robinfoot. The pretty, funny tabby was so sweet.

"Whitefang, this is Yarrowfur, and this is Squirrelleap." Sunshine said, gesturing first to a tan-pelted tom with a long face and droopy gaze, and a young she-cat with dull, dirt-like fur and curiously small amber eyes.

"They're Fernheart's siblings." Fogfrost explained, making a rude face toward the pair once their backs were to him. Whitefang snickered, and Yarrowfur and Squirrelleap frowned.

"So this is the cat Appleclaw used to talk so much about?" Yarrowfur asked. His voice was low and slow, and Whitefang found it painful to listen to him.

"She doesn't look like much!" Squirrelleap whispered a little too loudly, and rather obnoxiously, to Sunshine, who shrugged her off. It was clear the yellow she-cat and the handsome silver tom didn't like the pair very much.

"Well, neither do you. I wouldn't bother grooming your pelt if I were you. It looks like dirt anyways." Whitefang mewed casually, feeling peeved that this she-cat was sitting with her friends. Squirrelleap looked affronted, and Whitefang could tell that Fogfrost was trying terribly hard not to laugh.

"Well, that's-" Yarrowfur began, droopy eyes narrowing.

"And you can stop talking. It's really getting to me, because you won't stop talking until next gathering. Sorry. But not really." Whitefang shrugged with a sickening, saccharine smile. Appleclaw was looking at her now. She didn't care. She knew he had liked her. But he just didn't seem to get that they could be friends, and just friends. He just had to fetch a clingy mate and her bothersome siblings to try and make her jealous. It wasn't working.

"Whitefang-" Appleclaw began, but Fernheart was glowering at the white warrior and shut her mate up immediately.

"Don't talk to her! She's Shadowclan scum, uglier than a toad! She doesn't deserve your attention, hunny bun." She drawled.

"Okay, a toad? Really? That's the _best_ you can come up with, _hunny_?" Whitefang smirked, "I've heard worst. Now, if you'd excuse me, I need to go puke. Your faux-affection is sickening." She said. She collapsed against Fogfrost and curled herself around the handsome silver tom, licking his cheek and nuzzling him so hard her muzzle nearly landed in his ear. She summoned up some loud, fake purrs and coiled her tail about his paws. Exaggeratedly, she flung herself at him even more, wrapping her forelegs over his flank and burying her face in his shoulder.

"_Hunny bunny_, I wooooooove you," She purred, making moony-eyes at her friend and conjuring her sweetest kitten voice possible.

Looking disgustedly at Appleclaw and his Siamese-twin mate, she stood, and gave the same look to Fernheart's siblings, mouthing a quick 'I pity you' to her friends. Fogfrost couldn't bear it anymore, and his laughter bubbled out in quick spurts as he tried to keep a straight face. Sunshine was successful in keeping her giggles at bay, but a smile crept across her face slowly. Appleclaw said nothing, but Whitefang could feel his icy blue eyes, Leafbare sky blue, on her back as she walked away and feigned hurling up her supper in the bushes along the sides of the clearing. Head held high, she kept walking.

"Hey," She breathed into Falconshade's ear, after creeping up behind him and resting her chin on his shoulder.

"Hey," He grinned, turning his head to face her. She laughed, and he inhaled her scent.

"Why do you smell like Thunderclan tom?" He asked bemusedly.

"That's a story for another time," She purred, "As in now. Wanna get out of here? It's a little too crowded…and I did something scornful. I'm proud of it, though." She grinned.

"Oooh, now this I've _got_ to hear." Falconshade laughed. The she-cats who'd been surrounding his looked at them curiously, if not somewhat disappointed and frustrated. "Excuse us, I've got to catch up with a particularly _scandalous_ old friend." He said, muffling his laughter. Whitefang winked at them.

"Don't worry, I don't bite!" She giggled, feeling high on night air and anticipation.

"It's not your bite we're worried about." A silver tabby scowled.

"Tata!" Whitefang cheered, waving her tail as she fell against Falconshade, laughing. He laughed too, and the pair stumbled through the undergrowth under the stars. The moon shone, uncovered. Once they burst out onto the lakeshore, alone in the darkness, Whitefang pretended to fall away from him onto the sand and he turned away, convulsing with laughter.

"What was all that?" He gasped happily, leaning over to catch his breath. Whitefang let all giggly-giddy, winky pretenses drop. She lunged at him, snarling, and he rolled over as she lept, completely unprepared. She stood over him, pinning his shoulders to the sand, her hind paws on his back legs. Immobile, he looked up at her, completely calm. His eyes reflected the stars. Whitefang growled.

"Whitefang?" H asked, slightly baffled, but not at all afraid. Whitefang glowered at him and a guttural growl tore from her throat.

"Murderer!" She hissed, "This ends now!" She raised a pale white forepaw to strike the killing blow, and the sleek fur, meticulously groomed, gleamed in the moonlight. It lay there in the still night air, hot and humid, poised like an owl for the strike. With a deep breath, Whitefang fixed her gaze on his face, and His blue eyes betrayed no fear. She growled at his courage, and her paw lifted higher, claws unsheathing and shining a bright ivory in the silver light.

She whispered, breathing labored and harsh, "Swanmist…I avenge you now!"

**I feel like the best character in this chapter was either Lightpaw or Whitefang. Honestly this she-cat is so freakin complicated I'm surprised she hasn't torn herself apart yet. And Lightpaw is just great. IDK why but it's like really fun to write his dialogue. Probably because he isn't stereotypical clancat...**

**QOTD: Which character provided a star performance this chapter? What will happen next?**

**This would be a great movie. Amiright or nah?**

**Love,**

**~Bright~**


	49. Twisted Fate

**Short chapter today, guys, I have to study for midterms and will probably not be back for a while :(**

Whitefang's paw still hovered in the air. Her ivory claws unsheathed, they seemed to scream desperately to taste the blood of her sister's killer. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't make it come down onto his neck. The very thought of spilling his blood made her nauseous. She couldn't tell what the stones in her stomach were doing, nor the ferocious burning in her chest. She felt as though she'd implode.

"W-why? Why can't I kill you?" She snarled, her face twisting in confusion and rage. All her planning, her hard work…and she couldn't finish it. She was the coward, not Barkpaw. She was the coward. No wonder Stormpaw never won his battles. He couldn't finish it either. She glowered at the tom beneath he and growled in anger and confusion. "Why?" She demanded, tightening her grip on his shoulders. She was afraid he would go, slip out from beneath her paw and disappear forever. She wanted him to stay. What for, she did not know. "WHY?" She repeated, hot breath in his face.

Blue eyes wide and clear, reflecting the night sky, Falconshade stared up at her, a small sweet smile playing across his face. He did not hesitate before responding: "Because you love me." Falconshade answered simply, unflinchingly. Whitefang nearly fell over. _Love you? Love him? What? I-I can't love you! No! I hate you! I want you dead! _

"Never! You killed her! You murdered my sister, my only sister! You killed Swanmist!" Whitefang howled, but still she couldn't kill him. _What's wrong with me? _ Falconshade's blue eyes darkened, and turned the color of a storm. For some reason, she couldn't bear to see him upset. _I must keep my promise!_

"It was an accident, Whitefang. I never meant to kill her. It was in the middle of the night in the darkness of the storm, and in the heat of battle. I didn't mean to kill her. Whitefang, please forgive me…you know I would never harm her, Whitefang. I knew she was your sister, and for that alone I would never harm her. Whitefang… beautiful, strong, righteous Whitefang. I knew I loved you the moment I saw you. Why can't you say it?" Falconshade implored, muscles lax, blue eyes sincere. Whitefang stiffened.

"No…" She mewed, head pounding as the blood rushed to it and her vision swam, "I can't! You-how did you-why-" She stammered. Her paws was still raised, though her claws no longer glinted ominously in the moonlight. They were pulling back into her paw, and she watched them, urging them to come out and meet the neck of her foe. They would not.

"Whitefang, haven't you ever loved before? The burning in your chest, the longing, the pangs deep in your heart, the stones in your stomach, and the endless hours spent thinking about them? That isn't hatred, Whitefang. I thought about you for days on end: your eyes, your smile, and your laugh, your face ingrained in my mind. Whenever I saw you my heart would race. Don't you feel it?" He asked. Whitefang did feel it. She felt it every single day. But she didn't want to…she couldn't…

"I can't, not you! Never! Murderer!" She snarled.

"Whitefang, say it. Please." Falconshade begged; his eyes locked on hers.

"No!" She whimpered, but she couldn't tear her eyes from his. She desperately wanted to bury her face in his thick ginger pelt, hear his soft murmur tell her everything would be all right…but her promise. She had to kill him. She promised to avenge her sister.

"You know you love me, Whitefang, and I love you more than I ever thought possible. We can make this work, you know we can." Falconshade whispered, voice low and soothing. His eyes glowed with a soft blue light, and shone with love.

"There must be some other-" Whitefang breathed anxiously.

"Reason? Reason you can't kill me? Whitefang, you know it as well as I do. Can't you feel it?" Falconshade asked, though his question was rhetorical. Of course Whitefang could feel it, she had felt it, and denied it, every night she met him. She told herself she was just gaining his trust. She lied to herself as she went to sleep that wasn't thinking about his eyes, his voice and his scent…

"I…can't kill you." She said, placing her paw on the ground. She stepped off of him, and Falconshade sat up, rubbing his shoulders.

"You've got a good grip," He joked. Whitefang smiled weakly, but sat still and silent. Her mind reeling, gaze blurring, the pale warrior couldn't believe it. _Who would have ever thought I would fall for him of all cats? Not Appleclaw, not Timbermask… Falconshade._

"Falconshade," She whispered. For the first time, she allowed herself to recognize the soft, sweet feel of his name rolling off of her tongue. Her eyes welled with tears. _I'm sorry Swanmist, I'm so so sorry…I love you Swanmist, you know I do. I just-_Whitefang's heart tore. Would she keep her promise to her sister? Or…would she live the life of happiness she's always longed for, the life she's seen others have, with kits and mates and friends…But her promises were special! Whitefang cried, and Falconshade came to her side.

"Don't cry, beautiful. Don't cry. It'll all be okay. Shh," He murmured, tucking Whitefang's head under his chin. She cried into his chest, because she knew what she wanted. _Swanmist would've wanted me to be happy. Right? I love you, sister, I do…can't I love him too?_

"No one's ever told me I'm beautiful before." She whispered, looking up at him. Finally, she allowed herself to realize how handsome he was, how handsome she'd found him ever since she fell upon him during the gathering. How she never stopped thinking about him, his eyes…how her longing for blood had turned into longing for love.

"Well, then everyone's lying to themselves. You're beautiful. I meant what I said last night, Whitefang." He said seriously, pulling away so he could look her in the eye. "I meant every word. I'm so, so incredibly lucky to have you. You need to realize how special you are."

"Can we just…can we just stay here? On this island. Forever?" Whitefang sighed, not wanting to return to Shadowclan, to the world without Falconshade.

"We have to go home, Whitefang. But I swear to Starclan, I'll join Shadowclan if you want me to. I'll do anything." He breathed in deeply, grinning, " Hey, did anyone ever tell you what you smell like?"

"I heard Timbermask and Swanmist do it," She laughed, "It was all: your scent is the sweetest I've ever smelled in my life! It was so pathetic. Please tell me you won't say anything like that."

"Too cliché." Falconshade smirked, "You smell like pine sap and vole musk, and lily blossoms and forest spices. You smell like Shadowclan. And it's…_untamed._"

"Untamed, huh? Well you still smell like reeds and fish and running water. Which is pretty darn Riverclan. I think it's more…tangy." She said, inhaling exaggeratedly.

"Wild and Tangy. Man, we're the perfect combination, huh? If I could eat a wild and tangy fish, I think it would taste just right, don't you?" He asked, falling back onto the beach.

"Ew! Fish are so _slimy_," Whitefang protested, "A squirrel would be better."

"Fish."

"Squirrel."

"Fish!"

"Squirrel!"

The pair laughed as they argued, but then grew quiet as not to draw the nosy eyes and ears of the island to them. They lay like that until Whitefang realized the voices had come back full force among the gathered cats.

"They're leaving." She sighed.

"That's unfortunate," Falconshade frowned.

"Meet me at sunset?" Whitefang offered with a wink.

"You know me," Falconshade mewed, "I'm always waiting at sunset."

"Always?" Whitefang pressed, feeling irrationally needy.

"Always for you." Falconshade smiled, licking her cheek. The pair rose up off the sand, shook out their pelts, and rolled about in a patch of old ferns to shake each other's scent.

"Sunset tomorrow then!" Whitefang called as he walked away.

"Parting is such sweet sorrow," Falconshade purred. They both disappeared into the underbrush as they left to find their Clans. Whitefang ran to catch up to hers, and found herself once again padding along beside Timbermask and Lightpaw. She couldn't conceal her panting.

"Where were you?" Timbermask asked.

"Oh, catching up with some old friends," Whitefang lied, smiling in spite of herself. _That was wonderful. Swanmist would've wanted me to be happy, right? To move on?_

"Oh." Timbermask frowned. Whitefang felt awkward, so she turned to Lightpaw, who seemed full to bursting about his night.

"So?" she prompted.

"It was great!" He exclaimed, "I sat next to Doestep and we talked all night. The squishing strategy worked beautifully, ad I swear to Starclan I could feel the sparks. She's actually really funny, not just hot. Sorta shy too. I like that. She's cute." Lightpaw grinned.

"Congratulations," Whitefang purred, and Timbermask nodded.

"Does she like you?" He asked.

"Who wouldn't?" Lightpaw scoffed. But then he just smiled, "I think she does. I hope she does. Great Starclan, wouldn't it be great if I were a warrior right now?" He looked at them imploringly.

"You've got to pass the assesments first." Whitefang chided.

"Yeah. When should we hold them?" Timbermask asked, conferring with his training partner.

"In a little less than a moon. So their next gathering, they'll be welcomed as warriors." Whitefang purred.

"You seem in good spirits as well, Whitefang, what's up?" Lightpaw inquired curiously.

"Oh, nothing. Just an…interesting night." She grinned.

"Okay…" Lightpaw snickered, "I see."

"Hm." Timbermask huffed, looking at Whitefang strangely. She ignored him. Flying cloud nine, there was nothing she couldn't do. Whitefang was on top of the world, and she knew it would stay that way for forever.

* * *

><p>"Hey beautiful," Falconshade greeted her. After a long day, it was all Whitefang needed.<p>

"Hey," She purred, pressing her cheek to his. She never thought it would be possible for her to feel this way, to be so in love that she couldn't bear the thought of being away from him longer than a day. It had always seemed to be something out of a dream world. But now it was all a reality.

"Have a good day?" He asked, twining his tail with hers.

"It was long. I missed you." She sighed.

"I could join Shadowclan, you know." Falconshade offered. Whitefang started. _Him, join Shadowclan? We could be clanmates! But…what would they say? They wouldn't trust him, or me. I wouldn't be able to take that again. We deserve to be happy. _

"I think this is better," she mewed, skirting around the topic easily, "Race you to half bridge!" Whitefang cried, leaping to her paws and darting away. Falconshade laughed and raced after her, dark ginger tabby tail streaming out behind him as he tried to catch up to his mate. Whitefang dashed over logs and through little holes in the underbrush, quick as a white rabbit. Falconshade lept over streams and splashed through puddles of rainwater, subtle as a flying fish. The pair arrived at the bridge within seconds of each other, gasping for breath, and breathless with laughter, falling against each other and sprawling out upon the thick, gray, weatherworn wooden planks of the half bridge. They lay there through to the early rays of dawn, talking and whispering sweet promises upon the warm night air, taken by the breeze and carried upon the soft sigh of a wish.

**For all y'all who like fluff, that was it. More up and coming, along with kittens for a certain tortie, and a warrior ceremony for a certain trio, and of course more drama! Why wouldn't there be? This chapter was a major turning point in the plot, btw. And it will get bigger.**

**Love and fluff and same such things,**

**~Bright~**


	50. Wide-Eyed

**Holy shit nuggets, 900 something reviews?! WHAT?! Guys, guys, you gotta help me...I'm dying...OF HAPPINESS! LIKE HOLY FUDGE! I haven't updated this in forever so like I hope you still exist...I would be totally amazeballs to see the number "1000" flash on my screen. BUT THIS IS SO GREAT BECAUSE IT MEANS Y'ALL ACTUALLY LIKE MY WRITING! GRAND SLAM TOUCHDOWN THREEPOINTER SLAPSHOT RIGHT IN THE GOAL! btw here's the next chapter.**

"You're chipper," Bouncestrike remarked pleasantly, curiously even, as Whitefang dug into her breakfast.

"I'd expect you to be the chipper one," Whitefang replied, her mouth full of fresh red meat, and she chewed as she watched the smile bloom into being on the black tom's face. Cherrynose had kitted late last night, while Whitefang was sleeping, blue eyes dancing in her mind as her dreams replayed her encounters with Falconshade over and over. She never knew it was possible to love someone so much, to have your heart burn and yearn for them as if you would never see them again. But Bouncestrike knew it, and now he had three more little lives to burn for. Honeykit, Sorrelkit, and Aspenkit were absolutely precious. Bouncestrike had woken Whitefang the instant labor began, and the warrior stumbled into the nursery, half-asleep, beside her friend to greet the kits. Honeykit, named for her lost aunt, was a pretty little tortoiseshell with golden dapples. Sorrelkit was a black tom like his father, while Aspenkit was a mottled black and brown tom, his face nearly identical to the round one of his mother. Cherrynose and Bouncestrike adored them, and of course Featherfall and Hollowstar doted upon their first grandkits. Pinekit and Rosekit were just pleased they had new denmates to play with, eventually.

"They're beautiful, aren't they?" Bouncestrike sighed.

"Yes," Whitefang nodded, leaning down to take another bite, visions of dark ginger fur dancing in her mind. How she wished it could be night all day!

"But you dodged me, Whitefang. You're looking far happier than usual." Bouncestrike said teasingly. She rolled her eyes and swallowed.

"Oh, am I not allowed to be happy?" She asked.

"Of course you are!" He replied, affronted, "But everyone has a reason."

"Maybe it's the weather. Or this vole. Or the kits. Or the fact that I get to see whether or not my apprentice passes his exams tomorrow. You never know!" Whitefang exclaimed with a grin. _Only I know._

"Alright, alright." Bouncestrike laughed.

"Oh, look! Sounds like your children are up." Whitefang said, cringing as squeaky whines came from the nursery, and Rosekit and Pinekit tumbled out in a hurry.

"They're hungry," Rosekit squeaked to Bouncestrike, "And they're really loud! Could you make them be quiet?"

"Yeah, or tell them to grow faster! We wanna play attack of the badgers!" Pinekit complained as the wails grew louder.

"Aw, fer cryin' out loud!" Rosekit grumbled as a high-pitched screech pierced the air.

"Literally!" Pinekit agreed, wrinkling his nose.

"Let's go to the elder's den, Pinekit. At least it's quiet over!" Rosekit mewed, and the two skittered of to where Jumpfire's curious face peeked out of the den.

"I should probably go take Cherrynose something to eat, and then help with the kits…" Bouncestrike mumbled, getting to his paws and padding quickly away toward the freshkill pile.

"Hope you're successful," Whitefang said, getting up as well. She made her way over to the apprentice den, where Stormpaw and Fadingpaw were grooming themselves irritably.

"Whitefang, can you make those kits shut up?" Fadingpaw complained.

"No, but we can go out on patrol." The white warrior offered. The 'paws sprang up.

"Anything to get out of here!" Stormpaw meowed eagerly.

"I'll go get Timbermask." Fadingpaw said, dashing away.

"Hey Whitefang, could we practice scenting while we're out? I want to make sure I've got everything down for tomorrow." Stormpaw mewed.

"Of course," she purred, "But I'm sure you'll do fine."

"I just want to be as prepared as possible." Stormpaw said with a smile.

"Let's go!" Fadingpaw called from the entrance to camp, where her tall pale tabby mentor stood, waiting.

"We're coming, hold on!" Stormpaw yowled back.

"There's enough noise in the camp without you two screaming at each other!" Icegaze, their father, growled.

"Sorry, Dad." Stormpaw mewed abashedly. Icegaze shot Whitefang a look and padded away. The warrior wasn't bothered. It was only a few cats who didn't approve of her now, cats stuck in their ways or just cats who were naturally irritable. Icegaze, Lostwind, and Grayshadow. She couldn't see what their problem was. Even Blueshine didn't look at her as if she were a pile of dog dung anymore, and Paledove…she didn't even know, or really care, what her mother was up to now. Actually, that was a lie. She did care. She cared a whole lot more than she wished to. All her life her mother had never been a mother. Maybe, now that everything was getting better, Paledove would open her eyes…? Whitefang could never be too hopeful.

"Don't listen to him. He's always a grump. He's been a grump ever since I was a kit. Don't worry about it." Whitefang whispered to Stormpaw.

"But Whitefang, he's my _father_!" Stormpaw protested.

"I know. And he does love you; I know that. But some cats are just naturally in sour moods a lot. That's what I meant." She replied.

"Oh. Oh, alright." Stormpaw sighed.

"Shall we?" Whitefang asked, gesturing to where Timbermask and Fadingpaw waited impatiently.

"Yep!" Stormpaw grinned. The wails were growing even louder. Whitefang, Timbermask, and the apprentices hurried out of camp.

* * *

><p>"Honestly, I'll never have kits!" Fadingpaw grumbled as the foursome set out on their patrol.<p>

"They make so much noise, but they're really cute." Stormpaw pointed out.

"Cute, whatever. They're annoying." Fadingpaw snapped.

"I love kits," Timbermask meowed, gazing out over the border and onto the wide expanse of forest that is Thunderclan territory, "I've always wanted to be a father." The tabby glanced at Whitefang, who shook her head minutely. Dejected, Timbermask padded onward in silence.

"Fadingpaw, when I was your age I didn't want kits either. As you get older, though, they do seem more of a blessing than a curse." Whitefang pointed out, sniffing the border delicately. The strong scent of Thunderclan invaded her nose, and she coughed.

"These are fresh," She gagged. It smelt of rustling oak leaves and badger musk, with rotting logs and squirrel droppings. Glancing up at her friends, she notices the other three smell it too. Fadingpaw wrinkled her nose.

"Could we patrol somewhere else after remarking these borders? I mean, even Riverclan doesn't stink this bad." The gradient gray apprentice muttered.

"Then we'll patrol the Riverclan border, and toss you in the stream. Then you'll see how you like the smell," Timbermask scolded his apprentice, "Warriors aren't supposed to complain this much, Fadingpaw. If I didn't know any better, I'd assume your warrior ceremony was in a moon, instead of a day!"

"Sorry, Timbermask." She mumbled as her brother snuck away from his sister and her disappointed mentor to mark the border. Whitefang sighed.

"Timbermask, even warriors complain sometimes. Let Fadingpaw vent some her frustrations. It's been a long night for everyone, those kits are very loud." She mewed offhandedly, remarking the border as well. Timbermask narrowed his emerald eyes.

"Just because you don't get enough beauty sleep doesn't give you a free pass to whine like a badger cub." He growled.

"And you would know!" Whitefang retorted, her patience wearing thin.

"And I would-now see here Whitefang, I'm not the one who whines! If anyone, it's _you_, with all those moons of sulking around!" Timbermask hissed. Whitefang's golden eyes glowed furiously.

"Sulking?! Sulking! I had _so_ many reasons to sulk, if I listed them all, it would make your tail curl!" Whitefang snarled.

"Oh, yeah? Try me!" Timbermask rumbled, taking a step towards her.

"My mother neglected me," Whitefang hissed, looking him square in the eye as she slowly walked closer, "My Clan thought I was _nothing_, my denmates tortured me," Timbermask twitched slightly as she said the last one, "and my best friend, my only friend was _chased off with blood on his pelt_!" She snarled.

"Whitefang, Whitefang please-" Timbermask began, eyes widening frightfully.

"Then my sister lost her kits, and was _murdered_! _Murdered right in front of me_!" Whitefang howled, "And my clanmates didn't give a damn about me!"

"Whitefang, please-" Timbermask begged, stumbling backwards.

"My mother still rejected me, and now my best friend's father is dying. My Thunderclan friend hates me. I can't keep my promises," Whitefang choked back a sob, "and now everything is like a dream until _you_, _you_ say you love me! Do I love you? No! And you can't even _try_ to be friends, and now you've crossed the line! Get away from me!" Whitefang yowled, running off through the forest. Behind her, she heard frantic cries.

"Whitefang!" Fadingpaw called.

"Whitefang, come back!" Stormpaw yowled. But she kept running. She knew where she was going, too.

"Falconshade?" Whitefang whispered, tears streaming down her face, not drying in the cool Leaffall air.

"I heard something, Rushsong!" A small, squeaky voice sounded from a little further among the reeds. Startled, Whitefang ducked behind the nearby thistles. They stabbed at her skin through her thick pelt and lodged themselves in her matted tangles, but the thick, sweet scent of thistle blossoms covered her own.

"You heard something? Sure. You're, like, deafer than Stonebelly!" Another squeaky voice chimed in. A deeper one laughed.

"Now, now. Swallowpaw is not deaf. Be nicer to your brother, Mallowpaw!" It said.

"Yes. Now, Swallowpaw, what did you hear?" A soft voice, undoubtedly Rushsong, asked. The young tom replied.

"It sounded like pawsteps, and a voice!" He mewed quickly.

"_Sure_ it did." The voice, now she knew it as Mallowpaw's, teased.

"Mallowpaw," the deepest voice meowed sternly.

"Alright, alright. Maybe he did hear something." Mallowpaw muttered.

"We are very close to the Shadowclan border. It's quite possible you heard a Shadowclan cat." Rushsong mewed, "Now, why don't you two run along up there, and we'll catch up in a moment.

"Okay! Falconshade, do you wanna come with us? You could show us where the border is!" Swallowpaw squealed.

"Yeah! You patrol it everyday!" Mallowpaw added.

"Okay, I will." A familiar voice sighed in a faux-annoyed way. Whitefang smiled when she heard his voice. She peered through the tiny gaps in the thistle bush for a glimpse of Falconshade. Finally, after agonizing moments of waiting, a dark ginger tabby pelt appeared in the reeds, accompanied by two small, identical caramel-brown she-cats. Both had wide amber eyes, yet one had a white paw.

"Wow, it sure looks dark in there!" The one with the white paw, Mallowpaw, said.

"Yeah…" Swallowpaw agreed, looking wary.

"Well, this is it," Falconshade chuckled, looking out over the border. Whitefang anted to lose herself in his eyes, wrap herself in his pelt, but instead she held her breath. Rushsong and a slender pale gray tom padded out of the reeds. Rushsong was…Whitefang's eyes widened. She was the same caramel-brown color of the two apprentices, with a white splash on her chest. Though…her eyes were gold, not amber. She wondered who the father was. The pale gray tabby tom was…nothing much to look at, really. She supposed he could be cute. As the pair of mentors drew closer, she noticed his eyes were only one shade removed from Falconshade's. Though their appearances couldn't be more different, her mate being large and sturdily built, with dark ginger tabby fur and his soft, Greenleaf-sky blue eyes and this tom being slender and a pale gray tabby, with a long tale and wide paws. But his eyes, though they were slightly darker, held her gaze the same way. There was something about them…The pale gray tom stood beside Falconshade, and Whitefang noticed something. The shape of their heads, the width of their shoulders, and the square-ness of their jaws were so similar. She decided they had to be brothers. She would ask him tonight. The apprentices frolicked about the border, pausing to sniff and wrinkly their noses here and there.

"What do you smell, Swallowpaw?" Rushsong asked gently.

"I smell…rotting wood. And toadstools, and old moss. I smell pine sap and slimy frogs and squirrel dung." Swallowpaw mewed, eyes closed as she pressed her face into the breeze.

"I smell all that too! And…thistle blossoms." Mallowpaw agreed.

"Very good! Now, let's see what an experienced warrior can smell. Falconshade?" The pale gray tabby offered. Falconshade grinned, and sniffed once, delicately, with the berry-pink nose Whitefang had grown to think was adorable.

"Alright then, Waverunner. I smell rotting logs, oak and birch. I smell toadstools clinging to the peeling bark of and old cedar tree, near a patch of late-blooming lilies. There's a tangy scent of fresh pinesap on the paws of a squirrel, and two frogs hidden among ivy leaves. I smell thistle blossoms, and in those thistle blossoms, there's a sort of spicy, wild-" The ginger tom stopped there, blue eyes widening. He stared hard into the thistle bush, and Whitefang bit her tongue anxiously. But after a moment, he turned away.

"How was that, oh wise one?" Falconshade grinned, turning to Waverunner.

"You, sir, are the _definition_ of class." Waverunner snickered, "But see, young'uns? You'll be able to do that be the time your assessments have rolled around. But that won't be for a long time yet!"

"Shall we make our way over to the Windclan border?" Rushsong purred.

"Oh, yes! Yes!" The apprentices cheered eagerly. The foursome began to walk away.

"Falconshade? You coming?" Waverunner called over his shoulder, long gray tail flicking.

"Oh, sorry, just caught a pebble in my pad. I'll be a moment." The ginger tom replied, leaning over to inspect a forepaw.

"Suit yourself." Waverunner shrugged. The patrol disappeared back into the reeds. As soon as they'd gone, Falconshade's head shot up.

"What're you doing in that thistle bush, beautiful?" He grinned, peering at Whitefang, who laughed and rolled out of it. The thistles that still clung to her pelt pricked something fierce, but she ignored them. Falconshade crowed with laughter.

"You look like a porcupine!" He howled.

"Aw, stuff stick in it!" Whitefang faux-growled, pouncing on him.

"Ow! You're all prickly!" Falconshade chuckled.

"Of course I am! Thanks to those apprentices, I've been hiding in there _forever_!" Whitefang sighed dramatically, flopping down in top of the ginger tom.

"Aw, they're not that bad. They're really sweet. It's their first day out, y'know. Bound to be excited. Hey, what're you doing here, anyway?" Falconshade asked.

"Looking for you," Whitefang replied sheepishly.

"Why?" Falconshade purred.

"I needed someone. Timbermask started it again, and I just exploded. Now I feel terrible." She sighed.

"If he started it, he should be the one feeling terrible," Falconshade frowned, "It's all his fault that you were always so upset and-"

"Pffft, I know _he_ should feel bad. It's just…I exploded in front of the apprentices. They don't deserve to see us fight. With their assessments tomorrow, I don't want to stress them out." The pale warrior explained. Her mate nodded.

"I see. You know what might make you feel better?" He grinned.

"What?" Whitefang asked, looking at him curiously.

"If you took a little bit of your frustrations out on someone else." Falconshade said slyly. He tackled her, bowling Whitefang over and ignoring the jabbing thorns of the thistles.

"Hey, not fair! I wasn't ready!" Whitefang shrieked as Falconshade playfully pummeled her stomach with her paws. She slipped out from under him and knocked him over into the thistle bush. Now the ginger tom was covered in the little purple prickers as well.

"Now that was fighting dirty!" He exclaimed, launching himself at Whitefang with a playful yowl. The pale warrior giggled as he threw himself at her, knocking her off balance and nearly into the stream. The pair tussled, laughing, at the border, rolling over each other and then collapsing in fits of hysteria.

"I've got you now!" Falconshade growled, pinning Whitefang down as he stood over her. She pretended to squeal with fright, and a rustle sounded in the bushes.

"Hey! Let go of her!" Timbermask growled. The pale tabby stood in the clearing beside the border, bristling furiously as he glared at the pair. He lept after Falconshade, knocking him off of Whitefang in a fit of rage.

"Don't you dare touch her, you filthy son of a-" Timbermask snarled, raised an unsheathed paw to the Riverclan warrior's throat.

"No!" Whitefang screeched, "Timbermask, stop! Don't hurt him!" She ran at the pale tabby, claws slashing at his rippling shoulders. Timbermask fell off of Falconshade in shock, and watched, wide-eyed, as Whitefang stood over the ginger tom, breathing hard. Fire glinted in her golden eyes as she hissed.

"You will _never_ hurt him!"

**Whoa there tiger! **

**QOTD: Timbermask knows! What in Starclan's holy dirtplace will happen next?**

**I'm so happy to be back. the final day of midterms is tomorrow and I am SO FUCKING READY LIKE OMG PLEASE GET THIS OVER WITH and then maybe I'll update on Friday cuz I'm going to New York for the weekend. YAY NEW YORK i just ate a coffee flavored Ghirardelli chocolate don't blame me for this hyperness**

**I WILL SEE YOU NEXT TIME**

**1000TH REVIEWER EARNS THEMSELVES A SPECIAL ONESHOT OF WHATEVER THEY DESIRE, PLUS THEY GET TO NAME A KIT IN THE NEXT LITTER TO BE BORN IN SHADOWCLAN. YEAH THAT'S RIGHT, MAJOR STATUS HERE, FOLKS! I'M TALKING BIG BUCKS!**

**Energy has been depleted. Must go eat something before I go to the dentist. EW, I hate that place.**

**Au Revoir et Je vous aime beaucoup!**

**~Bright~**

**;)**


	51. Those Who Bloom Brightest

**i left y'all on a fabulous cliffhanger, so I won't delay any longer...**

* * *

><p>"What?" Timbermask asked, green eyes bright with confusion as he stared at Whitefang, who stood protectively over the prone Falconshade, teeth bared in a menacing snarl. Tree branches rustled as a cold breeze whistled through the forest and stirred the reeds, everything still but the trio of felines, breathing heavily.<p>

"You heard me! Stay away from him, Timbermask!" She hissed furiously. Her claws dug deeper into the tender soil of the riverbed.

"I don't-what is going on?" Timbermask stammered, not relaxing his crouch. His shoulders were tense. Whitefang stayed aggressively pointed toward the pale brown tabby, golden eyes narrowed. Behind her, Falconshade rose to his paws shakily, and looked Timbermask in the eyes. Blue met green as wills crashed in the cool air of Leaffall, and Whitefang couldn't help but watched, astounded, as a silent battle raged between the two forces. Finally, Falconshade broke the battle and pressed his bleeding shoulder to hers in an act of defiance and finality. Timbermask's gaze darkened and his face seemed to age a thousand years.

"I see," He mewed coolly, "I won't say I ever put it past you, Whitefang, breaking the warrior code. But I can say I'm disappointed." His jaw tightened as he released himself from his crouch, sheathed his claws, and cast the pair a final look before padding away. "Disappointed." He whispered, head low in the shadows of the canopy. Then, the warrior had vanished into the underbrush, the only sign he was ever there lying in the scuffs upon the forest floor and wisps of lingering scent, not yet swept away.

"Whitefang, I-" Falconshade began, turning to her. Her back to him, she cut him off.

"Don't say a word. I-I have to go." She said stiffly.

"Please, Whitefang, tonight-" Falconshade tried again, only to be pushed away a second time.

"I need to sort things out on my own. Knowing Timbermask…this could get ugly fast. So please, just," She turned about to face him, golden eyes pleading, "Just wait. I can fix this; I know I can. Just give me time to think."

"I wasn't going to tell you to fix this. I wasn't going to say anything like that," Falconshade mewed gently, pressing his muzzle softly against her cheek, "I wanted to say thank you."

"For what?" she asked incredulously, pulling away to look him in the eye. He watched her solemnly, reverently before answering.

"For standing up for me. Against your own clanmate." Falconshade replied quietly.

"He's not just any clanmate," Whitefang muttered darkly, staring at the ground, feeling the heaviness return to her heart as she remembered her promise, the promise she'd broken. _I am selfish. _She thought bitterly, _I should give up and kill him right now. But I love him, _The small, sweet part of her mind answered the darkened part, _You couldn't finish it, even if you desired it with all of your heart. You'd only want him more._ "He' her mate. Swanmist's." Whitefang said thickly.

"Oh, Whitefang," Falconshade sighed, his voice choked with tears, "I'm sorry. I never meant to hurt you, or hurt her, Whitefang, I'd do anything to go back and-"

"Hush. I know you would. Trust me, I know you would." The pale warrior shh'd her mate gently.

"Whitefang, I hate knowing that I-" Falconshade whispered.

"It's okay. She'd want for me to be happy, right? And I'm happy here with you. Just let me go talk to Timbermask. I'll see you tomorrow." She smiled.

"I'll be waiting at sunset." Falconshade murmured. Whitefang turned from him and padded back deeper into Shadowclan territory. The darkened sky began to drizzle rain upon her, hard cold rain. She was thankful; it washed his scent from her pelt, and yet it soaked her to the bone, and by the time she returned to camp, her thick white pelt clung to her like that of a drowned rabbit. She shook her fur violently, only to have it become even further saturated with rain.

"Whitefang! Where have you been? The apprentices were back ages ago and Timbermask went out to search for you, he came back just moments ago and-oh! Why are you so scratched?" Stonetail asked, looking at his only daughter with concern evident in his golden gaze.

"Had a tussle with some thistles," Whitefang mumbled.

"You'll catch your death out here!" Stonetail frowned, "And this rain's coming down even harder! Great Starclan, it's like all those weeks with a single drop of water and suddenly Starclan sends enough to last us for moons! Let's get you inside and-"

"Stonetail!" Grayshadow called, "Half of the apprentice's den just collapsed!" Whitefang could hardly see the gray and black tom through the downpour, his darkened pelt blending with the gray skies and falling water.

"Great Starclan, and we just fixed it, too! Go get yourself dried off, Whitefang." Stonetail urged, hurrying off into the rapidly falling darkness, heightened by the thick clouds and sheets of driving rain. She couldn't tell which paw was in front of the other anymore, hunched over in the center of camp, drowning, slowly drowning in fat drops of sour rain.

"Whitefang!" A voice called through the roar of droplets hitting hardened ground and the crash and boom of distant thunder. "Whitefang1" It came again, growing closer. The pale warrior tried to peel open her eyes against the downpour, but could barely manage to slit the golden orbs against the jabbing drizzles. Warm mist was gathering about her paws, and she stumbled forward to meet the voice. Soon, she felt a sturdy shoulder against her own, and she was following the rain-slicked body through the gray, saturated air. Finally, she could open her eyes. She was in the warrior's den, where tiny droplets gathered along the ceiling of leaves and twigs and vines, peeking through microscopic gaps and hanging low until they fell and splashed against irritable, sleeping warriors. They glistened as they hung there, like morning dew from the roof of the den, shining clear globules of water. Whitefang glanced at them as she stumbled through the tangle of nests to her own. She was thankful someone had patched the draughty hole in the wall, and that it was warm and dry from all the sleeping bodies.

"There, dear. Settle in now." The voice murmured. Whitefang looked up, and found herself staring into the moonbeam-pale face of her mother, who looked away as soon as she did.

"Paledove?" She asked wonderingly, head still rattled from the distant roar of thunder.

"Shh. Now get some sleep. You have to hold their assesments tomorrow, be it in the rain or in the sun. they wouldn't want them delayed." The once-absent mother said of the apprentices.

"Yes, of course." Whitefang mewed softly, watching in disbelief as the former queen tucked feathers from her own nest into Whitefang's. "Paledove,"

"Goodnight," Paledove meowed sharply, abruptly ending their conversation, if you could call it such. Whitefang followed the silver warrior's path back to her nest with wonder. Then, shaking her head, she turned to where she knew Timbermask to lay. Inching her way over slowly, she whispered:

"Timbermask?"

"Leave me alone, Whitefang." He muttered, not turning to loo at her.

"Timbermask, listen to me!"

"Oh, shut up. You don't want to talk to me anyway, I'll gladly return the favor." The tom growled softly, as not to wake the others. Whitefang scowled.

"Timbermask, you wouldn't tell anyone, would you?" She pressed.

"Not a soul." He snapped.

"What?" Asked Whitefang, taken aback. She expected him to have spread word to nearly the entire camp by now.

"You heard me." He said, lifting his head to look at Whitefang. She met his gaze evenly. "I would never do anything to hurt you, Whitefang. I never meant what I said today. And I hope he makes you happy." The pale brown tabby finished, resting his head back on his paws and closing his eyes. Whitefang watched as the glimmering emerald green disappeared behind dark eyelids.

"Timbermask…so you-" She began, only to have the tom, feigning sleep, reply before she finished.

"I'll never tell any cat, Whitefang. Alive or dead, I'll keep your secret until the end. Because I love you. I only wish I could make you as happy as he can." Timbermask said, opening his eyes again to look at her sadly. Whitefang remembered that look. It was the look that appeared on his face when he lost something. His kits, his mate…but he had never had _her_. She didn't know why he looked at her in such a way as to make her heart pang. She'd never love him.

"Goodnight, Timbermask." She sighed, twisting around to head back to her nest, "Goodnight, my friend." She heard his sharp intake of breath at her words.

"Goodnight." He whispered. The two cats sunk into the darkness of dreams, lulled by the pounding rain.

* * *

><p>Soft blue eyes. That's all she saw, and they glowed in the darkness. Soft, soft Greenleaf-sky blue. She felt as if she could dive into them and swim to the surface, coating herself in the love she saw reflected in the sapphire orbs. She felt warmth spread throughout her pelt, and she shivered with delight as familiar soft fur pressed against her. The darkness turned to warm gold, purples, reds, and oranges. A sweet voice whispered in her ear:<p>

_Waiting at sunset. I'll always be waiting for you._

His words echoed through her mind, meaningful and endless. A glowing golden sun, a fiery ball of extravagance, sank deeper and deeper into the haze of color.

_Always for you._

The glow of the evening sky intensified, causing her white pelt and his ginger one to be bathed in rich colors, until they, too, were bright as the sunset. She felt warm breath on her ear, and as his soft words played in her mind, warmth flooded through her veins and bathed her in a contented glow. She could listen to him forever.

_Well, it isn't hard when a beautiful she-cat interrupts and utterly __fascinating __conversation about swallows_

_I __want__ to know you. When a bubbly, beautiful she-cat lights up your night, wouldn't you be interested in being acquainted?_

_You need to realize how special you are._

_What're you doing in that thistle bush, beautiful?_

_And to me, you're smart, and funny, and interesting, and from what I hear and see, you're talented. So talented! And you're beautiful. Your fur is like freshly fallen snow, your eyes are blazing suns, your whiskers are just the right length, and for Starclan's sake, who cares about your eyelashes? What tom bases a she-cat off of her eyelashes? Your ears are so cute, the way they're lopsided with the little tufts at the tips. Your fur is so thick and soft; it's like a blanket of white moss. Who cares if it's tangled? I like it that way. And your paws…they're perfectly round, and anyone who sees them knows you're strong. I love how you're big. Tiny she-cats are fragile. And your tail, oh, I could sleep in it: it's so wonderful! It's adorable how you're clumsy, and how you think all the time. I'd love to know what you think about. And your laugh-it's like bubbles in a sunlit stream, floating and bobbing and swirling…_

_Because you love me._

_I thought about you for days on end: your eyes, your smile, and your laugh, your face ingrained in my mind. Whenever I saw you my heart would race. Don't you feel it?_

_Don't cry, beautiful. Don't cry._

_Wild and Tangy. Man, we're the perfect combination, huh?_

_Whitefang… beautiful, strong, righteous Whitefang. I knew I loved you the moment I saw you._

_You smell like pine sap and vole musk, and lily blossoms and forest spices. You smell like Shadowclan. And it's…__untamed._

_Parting is such sweet sorrow._

They floated about her fantasies like a comforting breeze, wrapping her up in the scent of wild berries and cherry blossoms, as warm as her father's love. _Cherry blossoms._ She thought ecstatically. _Cherry blossoms. That's where we need to be. Under the moonlight, bathed in cherry blossoms. Soft, sweet cherry blossoms…_She knew the petals would fall in the spring, and then, then she would bring Falconshade to see them. She could picture it now, curled up in two halves of a whole heart, nestled deep into a circlet of deep, soft emerald moss, watching the glimmering star appear in a twilight-blue sky, bathing in moonbeams, listening to sweet words floating among the rosy petals.

**Fluff, fluff, fluffity fluffy fluff fluff. Oh, not enough? Here, have some fluffed cream on top! Hehehe for all you Falconshade haters out there, this dream must've been deathly disappointing. I'm certainly glad none of you ship Whitefang and Barkpaw, no, sorry, Alpha together anymore.**

**QOTD: Poor, poor Timby. All alone. Even Lightpaw's got a little lady! What are your thoughts on the bipolar tabby tom? **

**XOXO, Gossip girl. Nah, not gossip Girl, guys! I'm Bright! Bright as a lightbulb! Weird mood again. Ending midterms had me feelin' a certain way. But hey, at least I felt all squishy when I read all my Falconshade quotes. Man, I write good lines for that tom!**

**~Bright~**


	52. Keep Me Warm

**OMG OMG OMG GUYS ILY SO MUCH and the last chapter gave me the feels. I'm glad some of you felt it too :3**

Whitefang struggled to watch her apprentice through the rain. Still pouring, though slightly less so than last night, the apprentices had insisted upon completing their assesments. She could barely make out the twitch of Timbermask's tail in an adjacent tree, let alone her apprentice. Stormpaw's pelt blended well with the gray day, and though his green eyes occasionally flashed through the darkness, Whitefang could only strain herself to watch his progress. So far, he had caught a squirrel and a magpie, both foolish to be out in this weather. He merely needed a mouse, and they would be done for the day. Already, she knew he would pass with flying colors. They fought earlier, first thing in the drizzly, damp morning, and he was able to finish it, which made her heart burn with pride. Through the downpour, she heard a triumphant yowl. She lept from the slippery oaken branch she'd been crouching on and stretched her cramped legs. Stormpaw appeared through the mist, carrying in his jaws three sodden pieces of prey, but prey nonetheless. A magpie, a squirrel, and a plump mouse. No, three plump mice!

"I found a nest of them!" He purred happily through the mouthful.

"That's fantastic!" Whitefang grinned, "Now, let's get back and see if the others have arrived yet. Then, I'm sure Hollowstar won't wait a moment further for your ceremonies."

"What do you think my name will be, Whitefang?" Stormpaw asked eagerly.

"I haven't the foggiest idea." She answered truthfully as they trekked through the downtrodden ferns and their paws squished deep into the mud. Dead leaves clung to their legs as they splashed through the marsh, the Leaffall foliage no longer looking bright with color, but instead a drab, drained few shades of brownish orange.

"I hope it's something memorable. Stormfall, or Stormstrike! But you know what I want most of all?" Stormpaw asked her. She shook her head, and then, remembering they both were blinded by the torrent of droplets, replied with a quick "No."

"I want to be called Stormfang. Like you." He grinned.

"That's sweet, Stormpaw. I'm touched." Whitefang smiled, thinking back to her dream. Her heart clenched up as she remembered.

_"Auntie Whitefang! You're my mentor!" Streampaw squealed happily as Whitefang bent to touch her nose to the berry pink one of her niece. She chuckled softly._

_"Don't think that means I'll go easy on you!" Whitefang admonished lightly as the Clan cheered the apprentices' names. Streampaw grinned._

_"I want you to train me just like your stories, and the way Addershriek trained you!" Streampaw mewed eagerly. Whitefang shook her head._

_"We'll start off like Waterfall. Addershriek's training style was intense. We will save that for later!" Whitefang winked. Streampaw bounced a little in excitement._

_"Oh, I can't wait!" She squeaked, "D'you think my warrior name will be good? I think I want to be named Streamfang. That way I'll be just like you, Whitefang!" She smiled, looking up at her aunt. Whitefang looked down at the apprentice lovingly._

"I think you might prefer a name of your own, though. Something to go down in legacies." Whitefang murmured.

"Maybe. But if my name's Stormfang, you'll be proud, won't you?" He asked beseechingly.

"I'm already proud." Whitefang sighed happily. The two pushed through the bramble tunnel entrance, Whitefang allowing her apprentice to go first. It was his special day, not hers. She remembered when he was merely a little ball of gray fluff, twitching his one white ear as he chased rabbits that ran through his dreams in the darkness of the nursery. She'd had him as her own ever since Riverclan's first attack, it felt as though that had been eons ago. Before she walked through the tunnel, she heard cheers, as if her apprentice were a returning hero. She smiled to herself. Stormpaw deserved every good that was ever given to him. As she emerged as well, there were words of congratulations whispered in her ears. There hadn't been a warrior ceremony in so many moons, not since Cherrynose was named, and she already had kits of her own. It was a big moment, in a day of dim weather.

She glanced around, noticing that Blizzardpelt and Lightpaw were already there, waiting. The only ones not back yet were Fadingpaw and Timbermask, though Whitefang knew they'd arrive soon. Fadingpaw was never one for hunting, and the storm would make it even more difficult, but the thunder had passed, and the only things foolish enough to be out in the forest were those taking assessments.

"We're back!" Timbermask called out from behind her. The brown tabby nearly ran Whitefang over in his haste.

"Watch it!" she laughed, pushing him away. Her paws slid in the slick mud of the clearing and she fell to the ground with a thud, taking Timbermask with her.

"Aw, gross!" The tabby cried, looking down at his muddied pelt with disgust. His legs, tangled with Whitefang's, flailed ceaselessly in the dirty puddle they'd landed in. Whitefang laughed hysterically, crawling away. Timbermask lept at her and pushed her back into the muck, nearly drowning her.

"There! That's what you get!" He grinned.

"Hey, no fair!" Whitefang choked gleefully, twisting around and pushing the handsome tom's face deep into the sludge of dirt and grime.

"Ack!" He spluttered, jumping away like a frightened toad. The entire Clan snickered at their antics, and Stonetail padded over to lift his daughter from the mud. He, too, slipped on his way, and slid, agonizingly slowly, into the clouded puddle.

"Gah, what a mess!" He shouted through the pouring rain, scrabbling to get away from the watered dirt.

"Darling!" Paledove called, hurrying to her mate's side. As she took his scruff in her teeth, her hind paws fumbled in the mire beneath her, skittering this way and that until she fell as well, and both mates were drenched in mud and slime. Whitefang howled with laughter, watching her parents struggle over each other to get out of the dip in the ground that had captured them. Soon, Stonetail began laughing, and Paledove joined as they realized the ridiculousness of it all. Timbermask helped Stonetail out, and Whitefang reached down for her mother. Golden eyes met crystal blue as daughter fetched mother from the depths of the dirtied pool.

"Thank you," Paledove wheezed, breathless from mirth and struggle.

"You're welcome," Whitefang smiled gently, "Mother." Paledove's blue eyes widened and flooded with tears, and she rushed forward to embrace her muddied daughter full heartedly.

"Thank you," She cried, the salty tears flowing down her cheeks onto Whitefang's pelt, tracing trails over the now brown warrior's thick fur. The words meant so much more than gratitude from a helping paw. "Thank you."

"Mother," Whitefang whispered softly, for now she was crying, crying of relief and release. Paledove broke away to look into her daughter's eyes, and there she saw something brilliant, a spark she'd overlooked for far too many moons.

"Whitefang," She choked, "My daughter." Stonetail wrapped himself around his mate and only kit, adding to the wealth of tears. Others watched plaintively, hearts warming with the scene of muddy affection. Even Grayshadow and Icegaze managed to dip their heads. The threesome turned from each other to their leader, and the dark tortie stood proudly at the head of his Clan.

"I'm pleased to announce today the creation of three new warriors under our ancestors," the rain still beat down upon the gathered cats mercilessly, but they no longer noticed, "Though one may not have been born into us, no doubt has ever crossed my mind that you were not watching over him, and that we have all accepted him as a true warrior of Shadowclan. Lightpaw, please step forward." The white and gold apprentice, fur splattered with much and leaves but nonetheless bright as the day Whitefang had met him, took a few sturdy steps toward his leader.

"Lightpaw, do you promise to uphold the warrior code and protect the Clan, even at the cost of your life?" Hollowstar asked. Lightpaw blinked once, very slowly, and when he opened his eyes, it was with a strong voice that he answered:

"I do."

"Lightpaw, you came to us as Dolan, a young kittypet paying tribute to his father. It is with us you stayed, and for that, and your skill and loyalty, we bestow upon you your warrior name. From now on, you shall be known as Lightheart, for Starclan recognizes in you the heart and strength of a Shadowclan warrior!" Hollowstar announces, tipping his head up to the sky as though he were trying to call to Darkclaw. Whitefang's heart swelled with pride as she watched her friend lick his leader's shoulder and then turn to the Clan, who greeted him with wild cheers.

"Lightheart! Lightheart! Lightheart!" they called to the absent stars.

"And now, Stormpaw, please come forward." Whitefang watched with bated breath as her apprentice looked to his leader and went to him eagerly, but with steady, measured steps. "As leader of Shadowclan, I call upon our warrior ancestors to look down upon this apprentice favorably. He has trained long and hard to understand the ways of your noble code, and I commend him as a warrior to you in turn. Do you, Stormpaw, promise to uphold the warrior code and protect Shadowclan, even at the cost of your life?"

"I do." Stormpaw said, not a single waver in his voice.

"Then by the power vested in me, your warrior name is Stormfall. Starclan honors your grit and determination, and welcomes you as a full warrior of Shadowclan." Hollowstar finished with a flourish of his tail. The Clan cheered Stormfall's name as he licks Hollowstar's shoulder and steps back; Whitefang held her head even higher as her clanmates congratulated her apprentice.

"Finally, Fadingpaw." Hollowstar addresses the smallest apprentice, her blue-silver eyes shining with anticipation, "You, too, have excelled in training and have brought honor to our Clan. Do you promise to uphold the noble warrior code and defend your Clan even at the cost of your life?"

"I do." Her voice is firm as stone.

"Then your name from this day forward is Fadingmist. Starclan welcomes you, and honors your strength ad courage." Hollowstar dips his head to the newly made warrior, and she licks his shoulder respectfully, as did the other two before her. Through the rain, the three names are chanted.

"Fadingmist, Stormfall, Lightheart! Fadingmist, Stormfall, Lightheart! Fadingmist, Stormfall, Lightheart!" The Clan called out to the sky, rain crashing down onto their muzzles, yet they yowled, undaunted. Whitefang watched as Stormfall's clover-green eyes lit up in the gray fog of the evening. The entire day spent with assessments, the three apprentices deserved their names. She smiled as Hollowstar walked up to the trio.

"You did well, I'm proud of you." The leader purred, "And it pains me to say that you _will _have to keep vigil out in this nasty weather."

"Nothing three new warriors can't handle, Hollowstar." Fadingmist said, puffing up proudly despite the rain. Whitefang padded up to them as Hollowstar left to find Featherfall.

"Congratulations," She purred, tapping her former apprentice on the shoulder with the tip of her mud covered tail. He grinned. Whitefang remembered when he was only a young apprentice, eager to learn and about as tall as half of her leg. Now, he matched her in height, and outdid her in muscle.

"Thank you, Whitefang. You were the best mentor I could've asked for." Stormfall sighed.

"I'm going to look forward to patrolling with you, _Stormfall_." Whitefang laughed, "And you, _Fadingmist_ and _Lightheart_." She put emphasis on their names proudly.

"Well, might as well warm up a little before going out to sit in the rain all night." Lightheart mewed.

"I've made you a nest already," Said Doestep softly, coming up behind the muddied gold and white warrior.

"I'm coming quickly then!" Lightheart grinned, padding off into the gray with the dappled brown she-cat by his side. Fadingmist and Stormfall rolled their eyes, but hurried after him. Whitefang watched them go, a little sad that she would never sit in the training hollow with them again, or correct their crouches, or say: 'My apprentice…' in such a way ever again. It was sad, but it was also a relief. And now she had no idea how she would ever occupy her time so well, without a cat to train. She glanced unconsciously toward the nursery, and thought hopefully of Rosekit and Pinekit, and even the three littlest kittens: Aspenkit, Sorrelkit, and Honeykit would be wonderful to mentor.

"Whitefang? We should probably wash up and get some sleep." Timbermask chuckled, appearing by her side.

"Yes, we-" She agreed, only to be interrupted by her father.

"Whitefang!" He called.

"I'll see you later, Timbermask, I've got to go!" She mewed quickly, darting through the heavy downpour to reach her father's voice. I had come from the warrior's den. When she entered, she was relieved to see glowing golden eyes appear in the dim light, and even more so to realize that it was cozy and dry in the den. The rain had washed most of the dirt from her pelt, as well, but it was still rather grimy. She blinked to adjust to the muted light, and she found that her mother was lying beside her father in their nest. Paledove beckoned her daughter closer and Whitefang purred. As she sat down on the edge of her parent's nest, she felt a strange sensation.

It was a rough lapping at her pelt; yet, in the same way that it was rough, it was gentle and loving. Glancing over her shoulder, Whitefang saw that her mother was grooming her messy white pelt. She was lulled by the rhythm, and soon her eyes began to close. Paledove's tongue made its way over her back and shoulders to her tail and head, even over the tips of her ears. Whitefang had never been groomed by her mother before. It felt…good. Like she was loved. _I am loved,_ She realized, _I am loved by my parents and by my mate. I have friends. My clanmates are by my side. There is nothing I can't do! It's everything I've ever wanted…_As Paledove finished, she purred and nuzzled Whitefang's cheek gently. No words needed to be said, no looks exchanged. Everything was felt. White fang got up drowsily and made her way over to her own nest. It was colder in the corner of the den than it was in the center, and Whitefang felt a slight chill as she settled in. She fell asleep anyway, dreaming that Falconshade was coming from Riverclan to lie with her in the dark, wrap himself around her and keep her warm. She felt warmer, too, as she envisioned it in her dreams.

It was only in the morning that she found Timbermask had slept by her side as she shivered, and kept her warm the whole night through.

**This chapter got me too. Anyway, moving on...**

**QOTD: Paledove has revealed herself to be...what, exactly? And did you like the mud? I need feedback for scenes like that.**

**We shall return next time, and keep your PM's open! I'll message the 1000th reviewer to see what they want as their One-Shot (can be Promise related, can be WCC, can be random OCness, whatever! Their choice for being fabulous!) and what they would like as a kit name. It can't be anything like Rubykit or Limekit, though, because cats have no clue what rubies or limes or anything like that is. So yeah.**

**Lots of love and same such things,**

**~Bright~**


	53. Nestled

**Back again, back again! Thank you so much to all who review this story! We've made it to 1013 reviews oh my god!**

**Congratulations to Flutterby00 who was our lucky 1000th reviewer! Her kit, Nightkit, will appear soon, and her One-Shot is already up! Please read _What Shadows Know_, a short story capturing Swanmist in Starclan, and her experiences as she tries to deal with being dead.**

The rain had disappeared, and the first snow had fallen that morning. The apprentices ad been warriors for a moon and a half now, and just last night Shiverpaw returned with Shyfawn from the Moonpool, her full medicine cat name being Shiverspots. The pretty pale gray and white she-cat was ecstatic to be receiving her name so soon after her siblings, and the trio, plus Lightheart, was already chattering eagerly. Shyfawn watched her apprentice peacefully from the opening to the medicine cat's den, turquoise eyes gleaming. Whitefang noticed the age creeping up upon the lovely black and orange she-cat's appearance, her muzzle quickly turning gray with age, and line appearing along her face, heavy bags beneath her tired eyes. Yet, she still looked younger than she'd seemed when Goldenfrost died. Whitefang often wondered what the former medicine cat apprentice thought of Shiverspots. She decided that Goldenfrost would've approved of the young she-cat.

"Hello," Timbermask smiled.

"Hey," Whitefang sighed, looking at her friend, "Catch anything?" He shook his head in response.

"Nothing, not even the stale scent of a squirrel on the branches. This early snow scared everything down their holes." He frowned.

"The freshkill pile's looking scarce, and we need the prey to feed the kits. The nursery hasn't been this full since Featherfall kitted." Whitefang fretted, "If we can't find anything in the beginning of Leafbare, how are we supposed to survive until the end?"

"I'll see if I can get sent out again. Care to join me?" Timbermask asked. Whitefang glanced up at the sky. Timbermask, noticing her worried look, reassured her. "The sun won't set for a while yet. You'll have time to…" He trailed off and looked away. The tabby was still taking some time to get used to the idea that Whitefang met with a tom from a different Clan every night.

"Okay. I guess one more patrol before nightfall couldn't hurt." Whitefang shrugged, rising to her paws.

"Oh, Whitefang, Timbermask, could we go out on patrol with you?" Rosekit begged, prancing through the small skin of snow in the clearing.

"Yeah, could we?" Pinekit asked, trotting up eagerly behind his sister.

"Please please please?" Aspenkit added. The little moon old tom was shivering in the wintry chill, but stared wide-eyed at the warriors nonetheless. Aspenkit was the most adventurous of all the kittens in Cherrynose's litter, frequently ditching his littermates to play with the older kits. He was their biggest fan, following the pair everywhere. They'd accepted him, too, but not without some hesitation. There was a point when little Aspenkit was forced to pull multiple pranks on the older warriors to get into this exclusive threesome.

"I'm sorry, but you won't be able to come out on patrols until you're apprentices." Timbermask apologized, looking down at the kits.

"We'll be apprentices soon!" Rosekit protested.

"Yeah!" Pinekit agreed.

"Me too!" Aspenkit squeaked. Timbermask laughed, but Whitefang leaned down to speak with them seriously. If they wanted to be treated like apprentices, let them, she decided.

"Now listen up, you three! Do you want to show Hollowstar that you're all big enough and responsible enough to be apprentices?" she asked sternly. The kits nodded. "Then I suggest you go bring some prey to the elders. I'm sure they'll appreciate it, and it will show Hollowstar that you know how to take care of your Clan. Then," she whispered conspiratorially, "The elders might even tell you a story!"

"Whoa!" Aspenkit squealed.

"And tomorrow, if we're good, will you teach us the hunting crouch?" Rosekit asked imploringly.

"Please?" Pinekit added.

"Of course." Timbermask rumbled, "Now, we best be off." The tabby grinned at Whitefang, who followed him up to Stonetail.

"Ah, there you two are! I need another-" Stonetail began.

"Hunting patrol? We're on it." Whitefang mewed, licking her father's cheek. The gray tom smiled.

"I knew I could count on you. Hey, have you seen your mother lately?" Stonetail asked.

"Not since this morning, though she might've gone to visit Swanmist." Whitefang said. Her mother visited Swanmist's grave nearly everyday. Whitefang no longer had the time, and she was proud that Paledove was trying to move on. She only visited once every couple of days now. Ever since the storm, Paledove had been a far more attentive mother, yet she still gave Whitefang space to breathe.

"Alright, I guess I'll check there. Hope the hunting's getting better out there. We didn't truly get too much snow…" Stonetail meowed, frowning, as he padded away. Whitefang turned to Timbermask.

"You ready?" she asked, fluffing herself up against the cold.

"Yep. Let's get this thing started." Timbermask shivered as they padded out of the clearing.

* * *

><p>Whitefang slunk over the snow covered forest floor, sniffing the air delicately. Her ears twitched as a small twitter of birdsong escaped the frosted branches. Glancing up, she squinted against the sunlight to spot a fragile little bluebird flitting about the empty canopy. She smiled to herself, and began to crawl up the tree trunk quietly. As she neared the bird, her crawl became slower and slower and slower…her haunches tensed as she prepared to leap, eyes dead-set on the little form of the bluebird. As she neared it, she realized it wasn't skinny, but plump for a Leafbare fed creature. Becoming impatient, she lept, barely snagging the bird by its tail feathers. She brought it down onto her branch and killed the struggling thing quickly. Taking it in her mouth, she made her way back down the tree, and buried her catch beneath the snow.<p>

Whitefang scented the air, catching the faint, fading smell of another familiar creature. A squirrel. Stalking through the woods at a quick pace, the warrior followed the trail. She sunk low to the ground, paws quick and nimble as a rabbit across the moors. The scent began to climb a great oak, and Whitefang followed it. The musky tang of squirrel wove to and fro with the branches, leaping from the oak to a cedar, to a birch, and to another oak, before winding its way down the trunk. She kept after it, slowing her pawsteps as she meticulously clambered down the trunk backwards. The scent grew stronger, and it was with a quick realization that Whitefang remembered this was the oak with the abandoned owl's hollow. It must be hiding in there. The pale warrior snuck up upon the hollow with ease and peered within. Inside lay a sleeping squirrel, wrapped around…

_Great Starclan!_ Whitefang thought, _A whole nest of them!_ They were all adult squirrels, squirrels who wouldn't begin to breed until spring. They twitched in their sleep, and Whitefang decided, since there were so many (she counted at least seven, possibly more) that she needn't kill all of them. Some had to survive just to create more squirrels to feed the future. Whitefang reached a paw in, delicately, and sliced the throats of four in one swipe. The others woke, chattering fearfully and scampering about what they thought was their sanctuary. Whitefang ducked down to allow them to scramble out, and the survivors did. She counted nine leaving. Nine was an odd number. She reached up and snagged the unlucky slowest, a squirrel with a slight limp, to add to her catches. Reaching into the hollow, she fetched the other four. Whitefang struggled to jam her prey into her mouth, and wondered briefly if Timbermask had as much as she did. She hoped so.

As Whitefang bent over to uncover her bluebird from her previous catch, a voice called out to her.

"Whitefang!" Timbermask shouted. She looked up, and the pale tabby tom was standing beside Featherfall a little further into the woods. "Look who I found hunting alone!" A light dusting of snow began to fall again, and Whitefang's vision blurred. She busied herself with uncovering the bird, and then struggled to carry all six pieces over to the pair. Featherfall hurried over to help, two mice dangling from her jaws. Timbermask joined them, carrying a couple of birds himself. His eyes widened as he took in her haul.

"Wow!" He exclaimed, green eyes bright with excitement.

"I found a nest," Whitefang shrugged, glancing up at the sky, which was darkening fast.

"We'll be back soon." Timbermask assured her quietly, though his own gaze was as dark as the clouds.

* * *

><p>"It's freezing," Whitefang murmured, pressing up against Falconshade. He purred and licked her ears gently, coiling himself around her. They'd scraped together a little nest in a small hollow beneath the roots of a sturdy pine. The gnarled, twisted stems coiled around each other, creating a cozy shelter. It was far warmer, heated by breath and fur, in the little den than it was out in the snow, which had been quickly morphing into a blizzard. The pair didn't mind: it was merely one more excuse to stay wrapped around each other for longer.<p>

"I've missed you," Falconshade sighed as Whitefang nestled her head beneath his chin.

"We've only been apart for two days," She laughed lightly.

"And it felt like an eternity. I'll join Shadowclan as soon as possible just to be with you." He purred, nuzzling her. She frowned.

"I don't think-" she began, only to pause.

"You don't think what?" Falconshade asked, shifting his weight gently as to make her more comfortable.

"I don't think you should come. Just not yet. I've only just gotten my mother back," She mewed looking into his blue, blue eyes, hoping he'd understand. Falconshade nodded, slightly disappointed.

"I see. I want you to be happy, is all," Falconshade murmured, "I'll do anything to make you happy. If I could give you the world, I would."

"And I you." Whitefang whispered.

"I love you." Falconshade purred.

"I love you too." Whitefang replied. The pair snuggled close, accepting that they'd be snowed in and unable to leave til morning. As Falconshade's breaths grew slow and easy, and his heartbeat was steady and measured, Whitefang lay awake. It was times like these when she pushed it away, the dark feeling in the pit of her stomach. She would not let it consume her.

_Swanmist, I'm sorry. But I love him! You understand, don't you? You understand I cannot bring myself to kill him, right? I broke my promise. _She thought bitterly. Her sister's voice rang in her ears, an echo of one of their many conversations playing in her mind.

_"Swanmist, can I tell you a secret?" Whitefang whispered. Her sister looked at her sadly._

_"I already know about your birds, Whitefang…" She mumbled._

_"No, it's something else. Something bigger. Something only me and Darkclaw know." She confided._

_"What is it, then? Spit it out." Swanmist sighed, dabbing at her eyes with her paws in vain._

_"Barkpaw…isn't dead." Whitefang breathed. It was a huge whoosh of relief as she released her secret, her secret that had been bubbling in her stomach, fidgety as leaping frogs._

_"What?" Swanmist asked, "I don't think I heard you right…he can't be. Darkclaw said-"_

_"He wanted Barkpaw to disappear a hero. Not a…a coward," It killed Whitefang to say it, "He's living somewhere far away now." She finished, not truly wanting to reveal the fact that her best friend __was__ a kittypet. It shamed her as well as Darkclaw. And yet she wanted him to return. Deep down, she knew Darkclaw wanted it too._

_"Truly?" Swanmist pressed._

_"Honest. Swear to Starclan." Whitefang said solemnly. Swanmist still looked dubious._

_"Say you promise."_

_"Why?"_

_"Because," The older sister whined like a little kit, "It means you really __mean__ it. Your promises are special, Whitefang. You __always__ keep your promises."_

_"Alright, then. I promise."_

_"Promise what?"_

_"I promise that Barkpaw, Son of Darkclaw, is alive."_

_"Good." Swanmist sighed happily._

_"Satisfied?" Whitefang teased._

_"Yes." Swanmist said simply._

Whitefang let out a little moan, and Falconshade mumbled in his sleep and held her closer. Slightly comforted, yet slightly more uneasy, Whitefang sank deeper into her guilt. _I broke my promise. I'd promised you, Swanmist, and you died. But I'd promised. I promised because you died. Because he killed you. I'm in love with your murderer. _Whitefang wanted to cry. _I'm in love with your murderer and I betrayed you. And I can't tell him. I can't tell him I promised you. He'd tell me to kill him. I can't kill him! Not even for my sister, I can't kill him. Why can't I kill him? Why do I have to love?_ She whimpered. Falconshade's eyes opened, and he sought her out sleepily.

"What's the matter, beautiful? Don't cry…" He whispered as she pressed her face, wet with tears, to his chest.

"I'm so confused…" She breathed, voice thick.

"I'm always here for you. No matter what." Falconshade said softly, "Get some sleep, love, don't cry. You're so strong, Whitefang. I know you know what's right. You're smart, you'll figure it out, I know you will."

_But can I?_ She wondered before drifting to sleep.

**Oh, the wonders of the world of Whitefang. **

**QOTD: How should Whitefang deal with her grief?**

**Check out the One-Shot dedicated to our 100th reviewer! It's called ****_What Shadows Know_, a short story capturing Swanmist in Starclan, and her experiences as she tries to deal with being dead, and the struggles as she watches things in the living world she has no control over.**

**Update soon,**

**~Bright~**


	54. Frozen Stars

**Short and sweet.**

" 'Morning," Falconshade mumbled sleepily, shifting beside Whitefang. She blinked her eyes open and yawned.

"How heavy is the snow?" She asked, golden eyes wide as she stared at her dark ginger pelted mate. He stared out the entrance to the den, which was half covered in snow that was still falling lightly. The drifts look like fallen clouds, though they cling to each other, thick and wet. The steady stream of snowflakes floated through the frosty air like glittering fallen stars, some flitting into the warm den and melting instantly against the pair's hot breath.

"Pretty heavy. But I'm sure we'll get home fine." Falconshade murmured reassuringly, ear twitching as a stray, sturdy flake caught the tip. Whitefang got to her paws and stretched languidly, pink tongue lolling as she yawned again.

"What if I don't want to go home?" She sighed.

"I could always come home with you," Falconshade offered. Then, he shook his head. "I forgot, the whole thing with your mother…I'm sorry, Whitefang, I just want to stay with you."

"Stop whining," Whitefang laughed, "You sound like a kit! Isn't it nice that we got to spend an entire night together? I think that will be good enough for me." She smiled, "I don't want to leave, but we have to. It'll be better going home knowing I woke up at dawn with the love of my life than at midnight with him only to leave." Falconshade purred and nuzzled her.

"Maybe someday we won't have to hide…" He sighed.

"Maybe. But for now, we have our secret." Whitefang smiled. "I better get back home before they start missing me." She rolled her eyes at the ridiculous notion.

"Of course they'll miss you! Who wouldn't? I know I will. But you should get going before they start sending out search parties for their favorite warrior." Falconshade grinned, flicking his tail at her cheek.

"Oh, hush you, you little tease!" Whitefang giggled. Then, licking his muzzle, she said: "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Tomorrow's the gathering," Falconshade corrected her, "But hopefully I'll still see you then."

"I love you," Whitefang whispered before leaving the cozy den.

"I love you too," He replied, watching her go.

* * *

><p>"Where were you?" Paledove asked, eyes wide, as Whitefang pushed her way through the bramble tunnel. Her pelt was clumped with the snow she'd trudged through, her muzzle dusted with falling flakes. Most of her clanmates were already out on patrol, but not Paledove. The moonbeam-silver she-cat had waited, all night, for her newfound daughter to return.<p>

"I had been out on a walk and got caught in the storm. Sorry, mother, but I couldn't make it back through the snow when it was falling so hard. I found shelter and waited it out." Whitefang explained readily, ignoring the penetrating stare from Timbermask. She'd deal with him later. The lie had slid easily off her tongue; she'd told so many, another never seemed to hurt. But she felt the lies, the broken promises, weighing her down, enough to drown her. She pushed them off, and for a moment, she felt free.

"You could've gotten sick! Or frozen to death!" Paledove fretted anxiously, "Are you cold? Hungry? Tired?" Whitefang stood still, compliant, as the former queen busied herself with worrying. It felt good, having someone to worry about her. To care. She hadn't felt it from a mother before.

"I'm fine, I'm fine. Well, maybe a little hungry." Whitefang admitted, glancing toward the freshkill pile that still held two of her squirrels.

"Stonetail, love, go get her something!" Paledove called, wrapping herself around her daughter. "You're chilled to the bone!" She exclaimed.

"I'll get it," Timbermask rumbled, ambling off toward the freshkill pile. Stonetail nodded and padded away to continue with his deputy duties, every so often glancing over his shoulder at his mate and daughter. Timbermask returned, a large gray squirrel swinging from his jaws. Whitefang recognized it as one from the nest.

"Thanks," She breathed, licking her lips as she gazed at they prey.

"We'll share it," Timbermask said to Paledove, gesturing to Whitefang. The snow-colored warrior didn't hear him as she stared, mouth watering, at the prey she hadn't eaten in a day. Paledove dipped her head to Timbermask and walked away, seemingly deciding her daughter was in capable paws.

"So," Timbermask mewed as soon as Whitefang finished chewing her first ravenously taken bite of fresh meat, "You went for a walk, hmm?"

"None of your business," Whitefang mumbled through her next mouthful, "What I do with my nights is none of your business."

"But they've made it my business!" Timbermask hissed.

"Who? Who's made it your business?" Whitefang asked snappishly, wiping her muzzle with a paw.

"The entire Clan! When you disappeared, they asked me where you'd gone! Not Cherrynose, not Bouncestrike, not Duckflight or Stonetail or Paledove! Me!" Timbermask growled.

"I'd expect you to enjoy the attention," Whitefang waved him off, turning back to her meal.

"Enjoy it? Whitefang, I can't protect you if-"

"I don't need protection!" Whitefang exploded angrily. Timbermask didn't move away, instead, he inched his face even closer to hers.

"If your little _secret_ gets out, Whitefang, you _will_ need me." He whispered furiously, voice low, "No matter how much you hate it, you'll need me. I can help you, Whitefang."

"I don't need any help. Falconshade and I are perfectly fine. We know what we're doing." Whitefang stated peevishly.

"I'm not sure you do," Timbermask murmured, glancing away.

"Oh, what does that mean?" Whitefang asked exasperatedly, slamming a paw into the snow.

"It's just that I care about you Whitefang, and what happens to you. When he hurts you-"

"Falconshade would not, and will _never_ hurt me!" Whitefang hissed, appalled, "He _loves_ me, Timbermask. What about that can you not understand?" She shook her head. "You know, I'm full." Whitefang pushed the half-eaten squirrel away, and stood up. As she walked away, she felt Timbermask's emerald eyes on her back, burning her. But she didn't look back. _He can say what he wants, and think what he likes, but Falconshade would never hurt me. We love each other. Can't he just get that through his thick skull? The idiot!_ Whitefang huffed. She didn't realize where her paws were taking her until she found herself standing outside the nursery entrance. _Maybe Cherrynose can help._

"Hello?" Whitefang called, looking in.

"Whitefang!' A voice purred from the darkness in the back of the den.

"Cherrynose," Whitefang smiled, eyes adjusting to the lack of light. In her nest lay the tortoiseshell queen. Honeykit and Sorrelkit were scampering about her as Cherrynose ate, and watched them with soft, glowing blue eyes. _Blue eyes. They're not like his. None are like his. He's special._ "Where's Aspenkit?" She asked, though she had a feeling she already knew the answer.

"Off with Rosekit and Pinekit, the usual crew. They're probably stirring up all sorts of mischief." Cherrynose laughed lightly, watching her other two play. Sorrelkit tackled his sister and pinned her, Honeykit squeaked indignantly, and her brother let her up. They then began the game of romp and chase again. "So what are you doing in here?" Cherrynose mused, "Picking out your own nest?"

"What?" Whitefang blinked, slightly stunned.

"You and Timbermask of course! Everyone knows you're a thing. Honestly, we're just waiting for you to move in here." Cherrynose purred, "You should have seen him last night. He was so distressed when you went missing." Whitefang was still having trouble processing the queen's first words.

"Timbermask-we're not-we don't-" She stammered.

"Don't play coy, we know about you two!" Cherrynose teased, "Your kits could be apprentices with my kits! Oh, they could be friends, and-"

"I'm not mates with Timbermask!" Whitefang exclaimed. Cherrynose's eyes widened, but she allowed herself a small smile.

"In denial, are we?" She said lightly, 'See it was never like that with me and Bouncestrike. Remember when we were apprentices? I'd moon over him constantly and-"

"I, uh, I've got to go. I'll see you around…" Whitefang said hurriedly, backing out of the nursery. She couldn't breathe. She ran out into camp, eyes wild. Timbermask was still sitting there, staring forlornly at the abandoned squirrel. Whitefang dashed up to him, her head spinning.

"You. Me. Talk. Now." She said bluntly, dots popping before her eyes. _Mates? Never!_

"Here?" Timbermask asked.

"Not here you idiot!" Whitefang hissed. She hurried out of camp, the tabby following her, until they reached a shaded glen, filled with snow, circled with sycamores. As they pause in the clearing, Whitefang turns on Timbermask, golden eyes glowing like fireballs.

"They think we're _together_?" She hissed.

"What?" Timbermask asked, taken aback by her sudden rage.

"Cherrynose just asked me when I was moving to the nursery with your kits! _Your kits_, Timbermask! WE ARE NOT MATES!" She howled, pacing back and forth with frustration.

"Calm down!" Timbermask said forcefully, causing er to stop in her frantic steps, "This could be a good thing."

"A good thing? A _good_ thing?! We are not mates; we will never be mates! I don't love you! Can't you get that through your head?" Whitefang shouted, mind reeling. _Falconshade, Falconshade, what am I going to do? _

"Stop it!" Timbermask cried out. The hurt in his eyes was clear, but there was something else there too. Something Whitefang hadn't noticed before. "Whitefang, I swear to Starclan, just listen to me! Listen!" He bellowed, "We aren't mates. But I could cover for you. They could think we're mates, and they won't suspect you're with him." The pale she-cat watched him as he spoke, and his voice was firm he truly believed this could work.

"Why are you willing to do this for me?" She hissed in disbelief, "I've been so terrible to you…" A wave of remorse hit her, making her want to fall to the ground.

"I love you, Whitefang. You may not love me, but can't I still be there for you? As a cover? As a friend?" He implored, emerald eyes begging her. "I want you to be safe."

"Fine," Whitefang said, glancing toward the Riverclan border, not visible this far away. But she knew he was there. He'd always be there. "Fine. But just as a cover, and just as friends. Nothing more." She warned. Timbermask looked away.

"Nothing more," He agreed.

* * *

><p>Whitefang sat that night, out under the stars. She watched them sparkle above her and wondered if Swanmist was watching. She wondered what her sister thought, if she was watching, about her. About Timbermask, and Paledove, and Falconshade. Especially Falconshade. She could picture Swanmist's star speckled silver and white fur, glowing and glimmering as she paced the brilliant skies. She wished her sister could be with her now, that they would be able to lie in the warrior's den and whisper to each other in the midst of the night, and that Swanmist and Timbermask could live happily ever after together. She wished.<p>

There were no fallen stars tonight, but the white snowflakes that still fell lazily from drifting gray clouds seemed as if they were stars, coming to land as power and cover the land in dreams. Whitefang, sometimes, wished it had been her in the sky instead of Swanmist, so that her sister could watch the frozen stars fall in the light of the moon. But wishes on stars were kitten's tales, and Whitefang was far from a kit. She sighed and padded inside, settling down slowly into her own nest. She refused to share a nest with him. If she were to sleep beside anyone, she would have to love them. Whitefang wondered when she'd see Falconshade again, if she couldn't go to the gathering tomorrow night. Closing her eyes, she fell away, barely noticing the sound of soft pawsteps as Timbermask passed to watch the stars.

He too, wished upon the frozen ones, silently gleaming as they hit their brethren on the ground. And though he wished with all his heart, he knew, deep down, his wish was not meant to be.

**I hope y'all read _What Shadows Know_, my One-Shot reward for the 1000th reviewer, and reviewed! All questions will be answered as the story unfolds.**

**QOTD: Who'd ready to see Thunderclan next gathering? Woooohoooo!**

**I figured I might have a contest. You know, because it's fun. Poll on my profile to see what it will be! **

**Also, go check out my Harry Potter collaboration with Celtic Silver, HestiaAbnegation11, and stuckathomebgs! It's on stuckathomebgs' profile, and it's called In Times of Old. It's pretty chill, and I'm the SLytherin! I love writing his part...so go read and see if you fancy it!**

**Love love love,**

**~Bright~**


	55. Reminiscence

**It's gathering time!**

"Whitefang, the gathering's tonight! My first gathering as a warrior!" Stormfall grinned at his former mentor, practically bursting with excitement.

"I know," she gushed, "Isn't it wonderful? And you'll have your name announced to everyone…I'm so proud." She purred.

"It's all thanks to you, really." Stormfall said, "I'm just lucky I got the best mentor in the entire forest."

"Stop it," Whitefang laughed. The pair was standing beneath the rock, waiting for Hollowstar to emerge from his den with Stonetail and announce who was attending the gathering. Soon, a hush fell over the assembled cats, and their dark tortie-pelted leader stood over them, side by side with his deputy.

"The cats going to tonight's gathering," Hollowstar began, "Are as follows: Fadingmist, Stormfall, Lightheart, Kestrelwind, Icegaze, Addershriek, Timbermask, Bouncestrike, Featherfall, Whitefang, Grayshadow, and Blizzardpelt." Those warriors, along with the medicines cats and two elders who were still nimble enough to walk, hurried over to the bramble and fern tunnel. Whitefang licked her mother goodbye quickly, and then sidled up to her friends. She found herself between Lightheart and Fadingmist, while Stormfall and Timbermask walked on Fadingmist's other side. The patrol started moving, and Whitefang bounced excitedly along the path.

"Someone seems eager to get there," Lightheart smirked, nudging her. He knocked the white warrior off balance mid-bounce, and caused her to stumble. Whitefang glared at him, but couldn't stay mad for too long.

"I _am_ eager!" She agreed pleasantly, "It feels like the last gathering was ages ago. And Leafbare's already here, too." Fadingmist nodded.

"Going to find some old friends, Whitefang?" she asked, vaguely curious. This initiated a pause. _Fogfrost and Sunshine, will they be there? Will those two other annoying Thunderclan cats be there? Will Appleclaw and his new mate be there? Obviously Robinfoot won't be, now that she's expecting kits. Are they born yet? I don't think they would be. Do my friends still like me? Will Falconshade be there?_

"I guess." She answered, appropriately vague for the hardly interested she-cat.

"I can't wait to tell Nutpaw that I got my name." Stormfall boasted. Whitefang glanced at him, wondering why her normally easy-going former apprentice was acting so cocky. "He's a moon younger than us and always thinks he's the best at everything," Stormfall explained, catching her glance.

"Yeah, what a little twit." Lightheart agreed, shaking his head.

"Oh, I once knew an apprentice like that!" Whitefang said pointedly, looking at Timbermask.

"I can see that." Fadingmist snickered. Timbermask glowered at her, then at Whitefang.

"I wasn't that bad!" He protested, tail flicking as they padded carefully across the slippery log that led to the island, parading down it one by one.

"Sure you weren't," Whitefang rolled her eyes, "Your brother will vouch for me."

"I'll vouch for what?" The black tom ahead of Whitefang asked, turning around. His amber eyes gleamed with amusement. Clearly, he had heard most of their conversation.

"That your brother was an arrogant toadstool as an apprentice." Whitefang provided.

"As an apprentice? What makes you think he's changed?" Bouncestrike laughed, only to stop short when he caught Timbermask glaring at him. "Oops."

"Ah, well, I'd run while you have time." Whitefang grinned. Bouncestrike dashed off into the clearing, Timbermask rocketing after him. The remaining four laughed, watching the brothers race away.

"Were they always like this?" Stormfall wondered, catching his breath.

"Usually." Whitefang mused, glancing about at the growing assembly of cats. It seemed Shadowclan was the last to arrive. "I'll see you guys later, okay? Don't get into trouble, and I'll certainly be cheering when your names are called." She purred, walking away.

"Bye, Whitefang!" They called after her. She waved her tail to show she heard them, and began to weave her wave through the crowd. _ Wonder where they are. I should probably apologize. My behavior was rash, and I wasn't thinking. But then again, Appleclaw should apologize to me! This whole mess is his fault!_ As she walked further and faster, she spotted a silver pelt also making its way through the jumbled mass. _Fogfrost?_ She followed it, and was soon convinced it was her friend. The cat walked with the same stately superiority that the pompous tom was known for.

"Fogfrost!" She shouted over the noise of the jilted crowd. He turned, and his green eyes lit up as he spotted her.

"Whitefang!" He grinned, hurrying back toward her. She purred as they reached each other, old friends together again.

"Hey, how are you holding up?" He asked, looking at her carefully.

"I'm…I'm actually doing really well." She smiled sincerely. To that, Fogfrost smiled too.

"I'm glad. It's my son's first gathering tonight…the other three are a little sick. Got a cough, see, and Birchrunner didn't want them to head out in the cold like that…she tried to make him stay home too, but I said, look here, I said my little tom's been an apprentice for two weeks already and I'll be damned if he doesn't get to go and hear his name announced in front of everyone when he's perfectly well! Dewstar agreed, and here we are. Now where'd he go? Cedarpaw! Cedarpaw!" Fogfrost shouted, peering through the mass of moving bodies. Finally, a small cream tabby wriggled its way out from between two skinny Windclan warriors, amber eyes shining.

"Dad! There are so many cats here! I never knew there were this many cats living in the territories and-WHOA!" Cedarpaw exclaimed, looking up at Whitefang, who towered over him. She was worried she'd frightened the little tom, but instead he stood in awe. "You're so big!" He mewed.

"Cedarpaw!" Fogfrost scolded.

"Now, it's okay. I am pretty big." Whitefang laughed heartily. "You must be Cedarpaw. I've heard so much about you and your siblings. How's your mother?" She asked conversationally, trying to make the apprentice feel comfortable. He shrugged.

"Same as ever, I guess. Worried about the other three coughing and whatnot." Cedarpaw replied.

"And how are you liking training so far?" Whitefang questioned. Cedarpaw's eyes lit up immediately.

"Oh, training's great! I caught a squirrel on my third try, and I already know how to do the forepaw _and_ the hind paw swipe!" He said enthusiastically.

"Isn't training wonderful? And you sound like a fountain of talent already." Whitefang purred, watching Cedarpaw swell with pride. "I just finished training my own apprentice. He was made a warrior just a little under a moon ago; his name will be announced at the gathering tonight as well."

"Cool!" Cedarpaw grinned.

"You remind me of him," Whitefang sighed, "you'll be a good warrior like him one day, too."

"You really think so?" Cedarpaw asked eagerly.

"We know so," Fogfrost chuckled, "Now go find your friends and play." Cedarpaw nodded and scampered off back into the crowd.

"Fatherhood's changed you," Whitefang laughed lightly, "You're not that stuffy apprentice I met so many moons ago." Fogfrost smiled softly, but his green eyes darkened.

"Time changes many things," He sighed.

"What do you mean?" Whitefang asked, worried now. Fogfrost looked at her sadly, shoulder hunched, no longer standing tall and proud.

"Sunshine died on the Thunderpath just weeks ago. She was supposed to be Owlpaw's mentor; we had chosen her specially for our daughter. But the next thing you know, BAM! Everything changes. Appleclaw isn't the cat he once was, either. He acts as though we were never kits together, tumbling in the nursery like brothers from different nests. His mate," Fogfrost spat the word, "Is in the nursery now with my sister. Robinfoot hates her, Whitefang; she can't stand them together. I pity the kits brought into the world by that pair. And I barely speak to my sister anymore, she's so big she can hardly leave the nursery. The world, life, even, is moving too fast. I just want time to stand still." He murmured, gazing out over the gathering, but not seeing it.

"Oh, Fogfrost." Whitefang whispered, pressing against him in the hope of providing comfort. "I'm so sorry. I miss Sunshine too, and our friend. And I wish Robinfoot were here."

"Do you remember the first time we met?' Fogfrost asked, reminiscing, "All of us, at the gathering?"

"I do," Whitefang purred, "I was so shy, so scared of rejection. Sunshine brought me over."

"And then…I think Robinfoot tried to make you comfortable. Crack a joke or something." Fogfrost remembered.

"Yes! She said you guys don't bite…though she said Appleclaw might." Whitefang stifled a laugh, "The look on his face!"

"And I said you talked like a mouse," Fogfrost mused, "You were so timid."

"And you so arrogant!" She teased, "And Robinfoot kept making fun of you…"

"Oh, she could be so nasty sometimes!" Fogfrost exclaimed, "And then they all ganged up on me."

"It turned into a wrestling match," Whitefang sighed, remembering. "And I thought you four were the best thing that'd ever happened to me."

"And then we didn't see each other for moons," Fogfrost said, "After that gathering."

"I had broken my leg, and there were so many things going on that I never went to a single gathering for the longest time." Whitefang agreed, "then Swanmist and I saw Sunshine, and it happened again. The pair was sitting down now, Whitefang leaning casually on his shoulder as they recalled the past.

"She brought you two over, and I believed your sister was the most beautiful cat I'd ever seen," Fogfrost said, "And that was saying something, seeing as I was already mates with Birchrunner."

"You all had grown up…you became far more handsome than I remembered, as did Appleclaw. Robinfoot was gorgeous, and sunshine was just as spunky and fun as I remembered her to be." Whitefang mewed wistfully.

"And you and Appleclaw laughed the night away, all through arguments of whose love life to reveal next!" Fogfrost laughed.

"My sister had thought Appleclaw liked me," Whitefang shook her head, "And I believed her to be so foolish!"

"But he did like you, even though we told him not to." Fogfrost sighed. "And then we didn't see each other for a long time again. "When you came to us again, you put on such a brave face even though Swanmist was gone."

"Yes, and I brought Timbermask with me too! What a mistake!" She exclaimed, "That made it so awkward. But then you started gushing on and on about the kits you were expecting, and I couldn't help but laugh. You were so excited."

"And after that gathering Appleclaw acted so strange. But then at the next, all I remember was talking about my kits. All about my kits!" Fogfrost purred at the memory.

"And while you babbled, Timbermask showed up again. And they talked about how much Fernheart like Appleclaw." Whitefang reminded him. He nodded, scowling.

"Then, _she_ sat with us the next time we saw you, and you walked away." Fogfrost sighed. "Finally, last gathering you put on that fantastic show!" Whitefang backed away, she couldn't tell whether he was joking or not.

"Fantastic?" She mumbled.

"Oh, it was brilliant. I loved every second of it." Fogfrost said enthusiastically, sounding like a pleased kit.

"Thank you," Whitefang bowed a little, reassured, "I try my best. Is he here tonight?"

"I think he may be." Fogfrost murmured, as if the information was confidential. Whitefang decided not to spend her night looking for a cat who did not wish to speak with her. If Appleclaw wanted to see her, he'd find her. After that, the pair sat in silence, listening to the leaders speak. When names were called, Whitefang and Fogfrost cheered the loudest of them all. Throughout the rest of the announcements, the boring ones, white looked for Falconshade. He was nowhere to be seen. After the gathering ended, she bade her old friend farewell, and joined Timbermask on the walk back home. He tried to talk with her, and ask her how the gathering was, but she didn't listen. She merely thought of soft ginger fur and glowing blue eyes and how she wished he'd been there. The gathering had been a sad, memory-laden affair. She needed his warmth, his comforting smile and soft voice. She didn't need Timbermask's pestering questions.

As soon as they reached home, Whitefang went directly to her nest, telling the others she was tired. As soon as she hit the moss and closed her eyes, she was swept away, far away, to a land of trees and rivers and permanent sunshine, where she and Falconshade could spend an eternity together. There, Sunshine was still alive, and she frolicked through the forests alongside Swanmist and Timbermask, with their three kits at their paws. Appleclaw and Robinfoot and Fogfrost and his mate and kits were all there as well, with Cherrynose and Bouncestrike and their kittens. There were no borders, no hard feelings, no stench of death. Even Goldenfrost peeked out from among the lilies with Honeygaze, and Rosedust and Sharpcloud could walk together in peace. It was a place of harmony, and love, and laughter.

Whitefang woke and opened her eyes to the dim, gray, snow-covered world. And she'd never felt more alone.

**This one's a little short, too. More coming up soon as the plot intensifies. we just gotta get out of Leafbare and we're all good.**

**QOTD: How do you guys like all the memories they shared? **

**Remember to check out the poll on my profile about the potential contest!**

** WCC has also been updated!**

**And, as I said last time, go check out my Harry Potter collab story on stuckathomebgs page! you won't regret it! I'm the obnoxious, temperamental Slytherin, Celtic Silver is the fiery Gryffindor, HestiaAbnegation11 is the level headed Ravenclaw, and stuckathomebgs is the popular, wonderful Hufflepuff! Together, we are the grandchildren of the founders, stirring up family rivalries and trouble at Hogwarts! YEAH! It's pretty chill, y'all should read it.**

**~Bright~**


	56. I Am Strong

**Bright is back, back again. YEAH! Break is so nice. Thank you for the lovely reviews, I adore all y'all who take the time to share their thoughts with me!**

**So, the contest has been decided by a very slim number of votes, so I figured I'd combine the two most voted for options. Contest is: Write a One Shot backstory of a minor character in Promise or WCC including your favorite of your OC's. Prize is a piece of your choice by me, or we could even do a collab story!**

**PM me when you post it, or if you don't have an account and would like to submit a piece, email it to brighteyesauthor gmail. com (ignore those random spaces, Fanfic doesn't like emails written fully out in stories.) **

**GOOD LUCK!**

"Whitefang, Whitefang wake up!" Rosekit shrieked, bouncing on the warrior's flank.

"Rosekit?" Whitefang mumbled groggily, jerked from sleep. "What're you doing in the warrior's den?"

"The snow melted, Whitefang, isn't wonderful?" Rosekit exclaimed, pushing Whitefang's heavy body toward the light streaming into the den.

"It has, huh?" Whitefang grunted, lifting herself to her paws. She peered outside, and sure enough, the snow had melted away. The last of the great mounds of white were reduced to puddles. The snow had piled up all winter, and at its greatest height, it was twice as tall as Whitefang. The late-coming Newleaf had slowly worked to rid the territories of the heavy white snow. Now, the camp was clear and damp.

"_And_ mother says it's our apprentice ceremony today! I'm so excited!" Pinekit piped up from behind her.

"Oh really?" Whitefang purred, rubbing her eyes with a paw. Rosekit sidled up to her and smiled.

"Yeah! And I want you to be my mentor, Whitefang!" The little ginger tabby mewed.

"No, I want Whitefang to be _my_ mentor!" Pinekit argued.

"Are they bothering you?" Mothwhisker asked, poking her head into the warrior's den, and spotting her children beside the white warrior. "Pinekit, Rosekit, you two are going to get cleaned up before your ceremony anyway! Come on, out of the warrior's den. Starclan knows you'll be there soon enough!" Mothwhisker sighed, looking at her kits with a fond wistfulness. Rosekit and Pinekit hurried out of the den, hoping not to risk the wrath of their mother, or, Starclan forbid, their _father_! Whitefang laughed as she watched them dash away, with the dusty brown queen following, pawsteps measured. Whitefang often wondered how such a quiet, gentle she-cat such as Mothwhisker ever birthed two rowdy kits. With a shake of her head, Whitefang turned away to groom herself. She doubted she would receive another apprentice. There were far more newer, younger warriors than she who had never had an apprentice, and older warriors who deserved another. She wondered whether her father would gain another apprentice, or if her mother would. She wondered who their first ones were.

Once Whitefang was satisfied with the state of her pelt, and had spat out of the clumps of white fur she'd collected on her raspy pink tongue, the warrior emerged from her den into the sunlight. It was dim, gray-ish sunlight, but sunlight nonetheless. It was a little colder than she'd hoped for the beginning of Newleaf to be, but she was glad the snow had gone. Leafbare was long and hard. A pain grew in her chest as she remembered the bought of Greencough that had swept through camp. First it was only Whitecough, but it soon escalated. Then the second blizzard arrived, burying all of the newest herb crops Shyfawn had been cultivating. Everyone that caught the sickness died. They had lost Quietdream and Lostwind, along with Shyfawn, who had worked herself to death. Whitefang hadn't been particularly torn up about Lostwind's death; the she-cat had never liked her, not even when Paledove realized she was wrong. But Paledove had cried about the snappish elder's death, for she'd been Paledove's mentor. Whitefang couldn't help but comfort her mother. Quietdream had been a disappointing loss, the gray and cream patched she-cat had turned out to be sweet in the end. And Shyfawn…oh, Shyfawn. Whitefang still felt the pain of the void the medicine cat left when she died. Whitefang had spent so much time with the black and orange tortie, and her face would be permanently etched into her mind. She had sat with her as she passed on, as well, and heard her final breaths. Everycat had shed a tear at the passing, for nearly everycat in the Clan had been welcomed into the world by the ancient tortie.

Whitefang had tried, every day, to remember Shyfawn. She had helped so much…

* * *

><p><em>"It's Featherfall! She sent me to get you. Shyfawn, she's hurting real bad!" Whitekit squeaked.<em>

_"Whitekit? Why didn't she send Paledove? You should be sleeping!" Shyfawn groaned, but raised herself to her paws and began gathering herbs._

_"Because, well, I don't know where Paledove went! She just left me and Swankit…" Whitekit trailed off. Shyfawn's turquoise eyes gleamed angrily._

_"A queen should not leave two young kits by themselves at night, especially not after a traumatic day like today!" Shyfawn hissed quietly._

_"Please hurry, Featherfall could barely speak! She's hurt real bad but I didn't smell blood!" Whitekit mewed._

_"Her kits are coming, little one. Go fetch your sister and stay with Duckflight while she sits vigil. I'll tend to Featherfall." The black and orange medicine cat started out of the den, but paused, looking back at the white kit. "Don't worry Whitekit, I'll make sure Featherfall's kitting is quick. She'll be fine, I promise." The she-cat's face softened. "You're not as bad as your mother says, Whitekit. You're a fine young she-cat, I see it clearer now." She tilted her head slightly, as if she heard something in the distance. "Yet you have a hard path to walk little one. Tread lightly, and follow your heart. I think I've kept Featherfall waiting long enough! Come along, young one. Let's go." Whitekit trotted quickly after the medicine cat, doubling her usual pace to keep up with Shyfawn's lengthy strides._

* * *

><p><em>"H-How did she-?" She stammered, looking up at Shyfawn like a lost kitten. The medicine cat looked at her sadly, deep turquoise gaze dim and lifeless.<em>

_"Drowned," She said, voice flat and still as stone, "I had sent her to gather what's left of the Watermint near the shore. Occasionally, it's in the shallower parts of the water. She-she must've found some a bit deeper in and gone for it…she fell through. A patrol heard her scream, but by the time they got to her…it was too late. They had to ask a Riverclan patrol to dive down and retrieve her body," Shyfawn sniffed, wrapping a poultice about Whitefang's leg, "Foolish apprentice," She continued, her tone sharper, with a deeper pang of loss than before, "Should've stayed safe. Gone after the shallower stalks. Always too good for her __own__ good. Stupid she-cat." Shyfawn muttered, strapping a stick to Whitefang as a splint. Whitefang watched her carefully. She blamed herself, not Goldenfrost, the warrior could tell. She had seen that look on many a cat. Darkclaw when his son had left, Stonetail when he had fought with Paledove, and she knew she had had it, many a time. Swanmist, too._

_"It's alright," She mewed softly, "Don't blame yourself. She was too sweet…" Whitefang said, and added quietly, thinking of her father, "And…important to go. We'll miss her. But the seasons still change, the sun still soars across the sky, and birds still sing," She remembered Sunspot, "So we must continue, too." Shyfawn looked at her carefully, and nodded. It was the tiniest assent, but nonetheless, it was something._

_"You can go and join them for vigil, now," She murmured, busying herself with tidying the herbs. Whitefang had never seen the sharp-tongued, no-nonsense she-cat look so crushed. "I-I'll be out in a moment…"_

* * *

><p><em>"Aw, please, come on! I'm her apprentice! Or, was, anyway." Whitefang protested, standing outside the nursery in the thick drifts of newly fallen snow. Shyfawn shook her head firmly.<em>

_"For what must be the hundredth time, __no__, Whitefang! A new mother needs her rest!" The black and orange tortie frowned._

_"You let Icegaze in!" Whitefang argued stubbornly, stomping her forepaw on the icy ground, "OW!"_

_"He's the father! And what have I told you about being careful with that leg?" Shyfawn groaned._

_"Sorry," Whitefang muttered, "But being stuck in camp for an entire __moon__ with nothing new to see gets dull."_

_"You think I don't know that?" Shyfawn asked._

_"I know you __do,__ so you'll let me see the kittens," Whitefang pointed out, grinning. Shyfawn sighed with defeat._

_"Fine. But be quiet and respectful." The medicine cat reminded the warrior as Whitefang pushed her way inside._

_"You think I'm not?" She called over her shoulder._

_"I wasn't kitted yesterday, Whitefang. I know you!" Shyfawn mewed, a bemused expression on her face as she padded away._

* * *

><p><em>Whitefang watched proudly as Swanmist commenced batting at the feathers with the kittens, who squealed with delight as the she-cat tickled and wrestled with them over the floating blue plumes. She sat and gazed at the four smiling faces, knowing that Shyfawn was right. The best way to heal was to move along.<em>

* * *

><p><em>"How is he?" Whitefang asked quietly when she found Shyfawn building a makeshift nest inside Darkclaw's private den. The tortie looked exhausted.<em>

_"He-he…I honestly don't know, Whitefang. I've done all I can. Let's just pray Starclan doesn't take him now." She sighed, "Everything would be so much easier if…" The medicine cat trailed off as Shiverpaw trotted into the den, jaws full._

_"I brought some more mallow, Shyfawn," The tiny she-cat mewed. Shyfawn sniffed the air disdainfully._

_"That's not mallow, Shiverpaw, that's marigold. Remember, I told you to-"_

_"Look before I reach. Sorry, Shyfawn." The little cat hung her head, "I'll go get the mallow now, Shyfawn." She mewed softly, backing out of the den. Once she left, Shyfawn groaned._

_"I know I'm tough on her, but it's been so long since I…you know." The old she-cat said, looking at Whitefang, who nodded._

_"It's hard to train a young cat. I know that now!" She joked lightly. Shyfawn smiled slightly._

_"Yes, it is. Now why don't you go get some rest?" Shyfawn suggested, leaning down to sniff delicately at Darkclaw's wrappings, "Stale." She muttered._

_"It isn't even twilight!" Whitefang protested._

_"Showers tonight. I feel it in my bones; there will be lots of rain." Shyfawn shrugged, "And it's always easier to get to sleep before the roof leaks than after," She mewed, humor glittering in her turquoise gaze._

_"Alright, I'll try. Goodnight, Shyfawn." Whitefang murmured._

_"Goodnight, child. Sleep well." Shyfawn replied._

* * *

><p><em>Morning came, and with it did the sun. A thin mist wrapped around the cats awake in silent vigil. The sobs had subsided as each pair of eyes ran dry and throats became course and raspy. Paledove stepped aside, Blueshine walking her son from the body, as the elders shuffled out to perform their duty to the Clan. Stonetail stood quietly, and added up his daughter. He closed her unseeing eyes before she was taken away to be prepared for burial. Whitefang watched, cold and unfeeling, thoughts chasing each other in circle as the scents of lavender and rosemary spiced the early air. Finally, Shyfawn was by the warrior's side. Gently, the tortie eased Whitefang to her paws, and guided each step to the medicine cat's den. Paledove did not watch her second-born's departure, nor did her mate, for their eyes were only on the daughter. Whitefang did not witness the preparation of Swanmist's body for the everlasting entombment. Shyfawn made sure of that. The white warrior would not be able to bear the sight of her sister in the ground. But, much to her surprise, Whitefang walked on her own to the body. In the few moments it had been, Swanmist's pelt was cleaned and groomed to perfection, glossy in the faint light, silver whirls shimmering. Her eyes were closed and peaceful, her fragile, lifeless frame wreathed in fragrant blooms. Whitefang touched her nose to her sister's.<em>

_"Good-bye," She managed. Paledove let out a dry gasp, and then buried her face in her mate's pelt as the body was heaved upon the shoulders of the elders and walked away. Timbermask watched through red, puffy eyes. Blueshine comforted him the best she could. To Whitefang's imminent surprise, no cat had said a thing to her. She made her way slowly back to Shyfawn, who brought her to the den. There, her wounds were cleaned and tended to, and she was fed and watered much like a sickly kit would be._

_For one moon she lay in the medicine cat den, staring at scratches on a birch bough. One moon she spent remembering, and succumbing to the gaping hole she felt in her stomach that extended to her heart and mind. Eventually, she was prodded from this lonesomeness by Shyfawn. The medicine cat scowled. Whitefang noticed the graying whiskers on the she-cat's muzzle. She also noticed she didn't give a mouse's fart._

_"You! You no good, lazy mope!" Shyfawn snapped, startling Whitefang out of her miseries, her reveries._

_"What?! Lazy?! I'm __grieving__ or are you so insensitive as to not recognize the signs?" The warrior spat uncouthly. Shyfawn hissed._

_"You spend an entire __moon__ in my den wallowing in self-pity! This is exactly what your sister," Whitefang flinched at the mention of her dead littermate, "Yes, your sister __Swanmist__ did when she lost her kittens! You know what you said to do? You said, go out! Go out and stay active! That helped her, didn't it? That's what Timbermask, and your parents are doing, isn't it?" Shyfawn growled._

_Paledove had lay in the nursery, unresponsive as Whitefang for a week. But she had gone on. Timbermask and Stonetail had thrown themselves into their duties. Whitefang felt her heart clench. She had been the only one to fall into a pit of darkness that she could never claw herself out of. Nor had she tried._

_"Get out there! I will not stand for your miserable slumps any more! Out!" Shyfawn snapped, pushing Whitefang from the den. The warrior snarled and spat ferociously as the medicine cat thrust her from her safe haven, but stopped immediately when sunlight dazzled her eyes. She stepped back slightly, blinking and shuddering at the suddenness of being thrust back into the world. But, as she knew they had to, her golden eyes adjusted and the clearing came into focus._

* * *

><p><em>She was taken by surprise when a sudden burst of heinous coughing erupted from Darkclaw's makeshift den. Shyfawn emerged from it, and, even in the inky, purple-blue darkness of pre-dawn, Whitefang could tell the medicine cat was exhausted.<em>

_"Shyfawn," She called out softly. The tortie looked up. Her turquoise eyes were dark._

_"Whitefang. I was just about to come looking for you." The medicine cat mewed darkly._

_"Why?"_

_"Darkclaw…he's dying Whitefang." Shyfawn said sadly. Whitefang bristled, both with horror and indignation._

_"Why come to me?" She snapped out of surprise, "Why not Hollowstar first?"_

_"Because you know," Shyfawn rasped. Whitefang stood, still and silent. Her heart pounded furiously._

_"He-he told you? H-how did he know I-I knew?" She stammered. A pale brown face flashed in her mind._

_"A white pelt is not easy to conceal in treetops, Whitefang." Shyfawn said bemusedly before turning serious again, "I told him he's dying."_

_"You told Darkclaw he's __dying__?" Whitefang spluttered._

_"I had to. I cannot save his. His wounds will not heal, and are infected. He is sick, with a Greenleaf fever I don't know of. He is dying. He has one final request." Shyfawn said solemnly. Whitefang looked into her eyes._

_"Find him." She whispered. Shyfawn nodded._

_"Darkclaw needs to see his son before he leaves for Starclan." She said, "I will tell Hollowstar where and why you left."_

_"Wait-I'm supposed to find him?" She gasped._

_"Yes." Shyfawn meowed simply, "And if you hurry, maybe he'll be able to see his father. And don't worry," She added as Whitefang opened her jaws to protest, "I have plenty to keep your apprentice busy with." The white warrior closed her mouth and nodded mutely. Turning, she mewed:_

_"If I do not find him before nightfall, I will stop looking. There is no point in traveling so far." She felt her heart break a little at the thought of her best friend vanishing over the long-distant mountains of lore._

_"Be safe," Shyfawn whispered._

* * *

><p>"Be safe," Whitefang murmured, thinking of the once-beautiful tortoiseshell she-cat with the large turquoise eyes, now climbing that damned starry staircase to leave them forever. Shiverspots was alone now, having just received her name, and Whitefang felt for her. But she had her siblings and parents to guide her.<p>

"Whitefang!" Paledove called from across the clearing. Jolted from her memories, the warrior looked up to find her mother beckoning to her: Hollowstar was ascending the steps to the great rock. Whitefang hurried to her mother's side, eyes wide as she watched as her leader took one more large step, and reached the highest peak. He yowled out to announce the meeting. With a quick glance around, Whitefang spotted Rosekit and Pinekit, pelts gleaming and eyes shining. Mothwhisker and Dawnstrike looked on with pride.

"Rosekit, Pinekit, please step forward." Hollowstar said, a slight purr creeping into his voice. It seemed almost yesterday that his own kits were apprenticed, yet now they were warriors: one of his daughters had kits of her own, and another was dead. Time passed quickly. Whitefang watched the kits' faces as they lit up with excitement. "Today," Hollowstar continued, "We celebrate one of the most important days in a clancat's life. This step into becoming a full-fledged warrior signifies their acceptance into our lives as our future, and Starclan knows, Shadowclan has a bright future. Rosekit, from this day on until you earn your warrior name, you shall be known as Rosepaw. Your mentor is Grayshadow. Grayshadow, I trust you to pass on your strength and wisdom," Whitefang snorted, _Grayshadow, wise? Then I'm a chipmunk!_ and the puffed up gray and black streaked tom glared at her until she winked teasingly, "to Rosepaw." The new mentor and apprentice touched noses eagerly, so eagerly, in fact, that their muzzles collided with extreme force. Rainwing burst out laughing, until she was hushed by a stern look from her mother. Hollowstar rolled his eyes, amused by the antics of the normally quiet Clan, and returned to the ceremony.

"Pinekit, from this day forward until you, too, earn your warrior name, you are Pinepaw! Your mentor shall be Featherfall, who I know will pass on her determination and courage." The dark tortie leader watched as his mate padded forward to touch noses with the small brown tom. Her copper eyes sparkled as she looked up at her mate, who shot her a smile. Whitefang watched the exchange, and wished that someday she too know the feeling of growing older with Falconshade. She remembered the hushed words spoken when young Hollowstar took the even younger Featherfall as his mate. Quiet murmurs from the warrior's den had caught her nosy ears, saying Hollowstar was a known philanderer and Featherfall was naïve and innocent, a new warrior caught up in his charm. They whispered rumors that he had been caught with other she-cats many times, but their words went unconfirmed. When Featherfall gave birth to her five kits, Hollowstar was there. Of course, Whitefang had been there as well, but no one ever said anything about that. Whitefang knew that their love was strong. She hoped she would be strong enough to one day bring Falconshade home, and they would share that love. She knew it was possible.

_Falconshade…_She thought, half-watching as the excited new apprentices, the first apprentices to Shadowclan in moons, headed out with their mentors. Only half-watching the disappointed faces of the clanmates not selected to mentor Rosepaw and Pinepaw, and looking hopefully toward the nursery where the three younger kits had slept through the ceremony with their mother. _Falconshade…it's Newleaf. Soon, I'll take you to the cherry trees. Soon, I'll see you framed by petals, and soon, we'll sleep beneath the stars in emerald rabbit's ear-soft moss. Soon. For now, I just have to put up with Timbermask. But soon, when the sun shines and the ground is green, and the petals float on the breeze, we'll be together. I just have to survive today with Timbermask, and I might even see you tonight._

"Whitefang!" _Speak of the devil. _ Whitefang thought irritably.

"Timbermask," She plastered a smile on her face and turned around, face to face with the brown tabby tom. His emerald eyes shone bright.

"Want to go for a walk?" He asked eagerly.

"Oh, um," Whitefang glanced around, noticing a few of her clanmates watching them. _Nosy nosy nosy, can't you stay out of my business? _"Sure!" She chirped, maintaining her façade. Timbermask grinned, seemingly oblivious to her act.

"Great," he purred, twining his tail with hers and leading her out of camp. As soon as they had passed through the tunnel, though, out of sight and out of earshot, Whitefang dropped the smile and unraveled her tail from his. Timbermask didn't protest; he merely watched her separate herself from him quickly with dull green eyes.

"So I guess this means-" He began.

"Yes, Timbermask. You're still my cover." Whitefang cut him off impatiently, shaking out her pelt.

"Whatever." Timbermask huffed, "I'm not doing this for myself anyway."

"And I'm thankful," Whitefang said sincerely, "But wasn't that a bit much?"

"No," Timbermask shook his head as he at down, leaning against the damp, mossy bark of a young oak tree. Whitefang sat beside him, and pawed at some ivy absent mindedly, listening to him. "Have you seen the way Cherrynose acts with Bouncestrike? Or Hollowstar and Featherfall? Even my parents and your parents…they're all affectionate. If you want to make them think that we're together, then-"

"Why is this all so difficult?" Whitefang wondered aloud, picking one of the leaves off the ivy vine and playing with it between her paws.

"All what?" Timbermask asked gently, inching closer to her. She didn't notice.

"Everything! Why-why can't Swanmist still be here, and be with you? Why can't I take Falconshade as a mate without suspicion and why can't my mother have accepted me earlier? Why did Shyfawn have to die? Why did your kits have to die?" She nearly choked on her words as they spilled from her mouth, a flood of enough anger, pain, and frustration to coat the ground like snowfall. Timbermask watched her, gaze soft.

"Have you ever once thought that these things happen for a reason?" He mewed, resting his tail on her shoulder. For once, the white warrior did not flinch from his touch.

"Reason? What reason could there possibly be for making me miserable?" Whitefang spat bitterly.

"Making _you_ miserable?" Timbermask exclaimed, "The world doesn't revolve around you, Whitefang." Taken aback by the normally mooning tom's words, Whitefang stared at him. His voice was stern: "It doesn't. Do you think that when Swanmist died, it hurt only you? Or when our kits were buried, it affected only you? Did you stop to think, just for one moment, that it hurt your father just as much when Paledove didn't accept you, and that he tried and tried to get her to open her eyes? Or that Swanmist was upset that she passed on, and that the kits she carried were gone, and that the entire Clan mourns Shyfawn, not just you? Honestly, sometimes you're just so shallow and self-centered that I can't stand it!" He growled.

"Timbermask, wait!" Whitefang squeaked, regaining her voice. He rose to his paws and looked at her, disgusted with what he saw. Whitefang pressed herself to the ground, as if groveling for forgiveness before him.

"And to think I believed you were strong," He snapped. Timbermask turned and began to walk away, deeper into the forest.

"Timbermask!" Whitefang called desperately, paws slipping in the sodden dirt and slime as she tried to chase after him, instead landing on her face. As she lay in the mud, Whitefang thought long and hard about his words. _Am I truly self-centered? So shallow? Did I really not think about the rest of the Clan? Surely Shiverspots is mourning Shyfawn, as is every cat that she ever helped. And Swanmist, how could I believe I was the only cat who cared? And the kits…Timbermask was their father. I'm so stupid! So stupid, I can't stand it! I-I've got to find him. Apologize. _Whitefang scrambled to her paws and raced through the forest, following his scent quickly and easily. _I am Whitefang. I am strong._

**You are strong, Whitefang. Anyone going through tough times, always remem****ber that. Be yourself. you are strong. You can get through this, okay? We've got your back. **

**Remember the contest, all y'all who wish to enter! I'm taking submissions til April Break!**

**QOTD: What would you do if Timbermask said that to you?**

**Lots of Love**

**~Bright~**


	57. Warm Breaths, Soft Steps

**Last minute update! This one's for all you shipper out there...**

"Timbermask!" Whitefang called, voice hoarse from shouting his name through empty, blooming forests for hours, "Timbermask!" She coughed, and the raspy dryness that accompanied it was unfamiliar after so many moons of peace. "Timbermask!" She managed before her voice gave out completely. It was gone now; she'd just have to rely on her nose. Pressing the soft pink skin to the ground, she wearily caught his scent. The twisting trail had wound in and about the underbrush, through the trees and over the swamps. She wondered where it would end up. Taking quick, determined steps, Whitefang followed the scent diligently. She had rehearsed in her mind what she'd wanted to say a thousand times. From the moment he raced off through the woods, she'd thought it. He didn't deserve what she put him through, not really. Yet he didn't deserve her love either. He deserved so much more. She remembered the feeble beginnings of an apology as the words drifted through her mind, no longer needed.

_Timbermask, I really am strong. No, that's not it. Timbermask, I wanted to say I was sorry for being such a stuck up git. No, that's not right either. Timbermask, I really wish you would stop bugging me and just leave me alone! No, that sucks too. _

Finally, she'd determined on the perfect apology. But now her voice was gone, because the Starclan-forsaken tom had led her on a wild goose chase through the entire territory! Now, Whitefang had to show him a whole other way. A way to show regret for what she'd done. Nothing came to mind but for the cherry trees. _They aren't even blossoming yet!_ Whitefang thought irritably, scolding herself, _And I was going to take Falconshade there! That's a place for love, not for…whatever Timbermask and I are. _

She found the trail once again, and it was fresher than before, as if he had walked back this way, but thought better of it and continued on. She practically ran through the berry bushes along the strong-smelling path.

Soon, Whitefang burst out into the open, finding Timbermask sitting beside the babbling brook. She padded softly into the clearing, and watched as he stared silently into the gushing river. She couldn't exactly announce her presence, so the white warrior stepped beside him and sat down gently, telling the tom she was there by touching his shoulder, a light tap of her tail. To her surprise, he pressed closer to her, shoulders sagging as if he held a heavy burden atop his back that caused him to sink low into the soft dirt of the riverside. She said nothing; even if she could, what was there to say? He apology seemed meager compared to the invisible weight of his many sorrows. After a while, when the sun was slowly sinking, the sky turning a pale lilac, he sighed heavily.

"You know, it's sunset. He'll be here soon." Timbermask mewed, voice low and broken. Whitefang merely looked at him, unable and otherwise unwilling to speak. "When I saw you at the gathering, I knew." Timbermask continued, eyes darkening. Whitefang cocked her head. He didn't look at her, but spoke as if he'd seen. "That gathering. At first I had thought it was you and that cream tom. The one with the blue eyes, Thunderclan. But when you fell I knew. The way he looked at you was something I'd never really seen before. I don't know why I was watching you, when Swanmist was there. I should've been watching her. But you were…glowing. Sparkling, even. You were laughing and bright. Like nothing I'd ever seen before when you were at home. I don't think you knew, but nearly every tom was staring at you that night. I don't there was a pair of eyes that didn't catch on you. That was when I suspected something was happening, but I pushed it away. I had Swanmist." Whitefang sighed, and airy, breathy sound. It didn't mean much. But she knew where this was going.

"Whitefang, when I saw you with him here…I don't know. I freaked out, I think. I had suspected it, but I didn't want it to be true. Whitefang! I still don't want it to be true. But it is. And so is what I said today. I don't know why I said it; maybe it was to make myself feel better about losing you. Of course, that didn't work." He chuckled ruefully, "But you are self-centered. And a brat. And you think the world revolves around you. But you aren't weak, that's for sure. You're one of the strongest she-cats I've ever seen. Stronger than Shimmerstar, even! What has she seen, how has she suffered? Not like you. Nothing like what we put you through. I'm sorry, Whitefang." Timbermask finally looked at her. His green eyes met her's, and Whitefang couldn't hold his gaze. She slid her paw over his, ever so momentarily, before letting it slide away. That was all he really needed to begin again.

"Whitefang, do you think-? Could we ever-" He trailed off as she shook her head and stood, turning away. She left him by the lonely riverside, golden sun reflecting off the water, glinting and glittering in the depths of emerald that watched her walk away.

* * *

><p>Whitefang and Timbermask hadn't spoken for the weeks following their river episode. She had regained her voice and apologized, but nothing after that. The Clan seemed to think they were having a 'little falling out'. Or, at least, that's what Timbermask led them to believe. If Whitefang could say anything about that tom, he was loyal. As she trudged across camp to retrieve a bite to eat, she decided maybe today would be the day to do a little hunting and check out the cherry trees. It was nearly time for them to blossom, and she was eager, quivering, even, to show them to Falconshade. She had told him she was preparing a surprise the night before, as they'd lay together on the shore. He'd purred.<p>

"_Whatever you say, beautiful." He'd grinned, prodding her playfully in the side. _

"_Trust me, you'll love it!" Whitefang announced confidently. _

"_Sure," He rolled his eyes teasingly, "What is it's a frog? A dead one?" _

"_You know," Whitefang huffed, "Frogs happen to be delicious." Falconshade shuddered, thick ginger tabby pelt quivering as he wriggled._

"_Ew! Never, they're slimy!" He laughed._

"_And your fish aren't?" Whitefang protested, draping herself over his stomach and turning to gaze into his eyes. They blue orbs glowed with a steady warmth._

"_My fish are _delicious_," He mewed, "You just haven't tried one."_

"_Just like you haven't tried a frog!" Whitefang smirked, nestling her chin comfortably in his chest fur. He grinned, looking down at her. Her golden eyes sparkled._

"_Well, aren't you going to catch me one, then?" Falconshade asked amusedly. Her face lit up like a thousand fireflies. _

"_Yes!" She shouted, leaping up and dashing out into the swamps. Falconshade laughed and ambled over to the river, watching the shivering ripples for the unmistakable glint of fish. With a darting ginger paw and startling silver flash, thrown suddenly up into the air, he spattered the ground with silver-bright droplets. The fish followed the arc of his paw as he brought it down hard upon the sandy, pebble-littered shore, slicing it's stomach with a flick of his claws. The fish-blood smelt of fresh streams and river-bred carp, with an underlying hint of algae and mud in the distinct odor. Falconshade gazed upon his catch and nodded, satisfied. Soon, Whitefang came bursting through the bushes ecstatically, covered in earthy-smelling mud and murky swamp water, a still-wriggling worm draped behind one ear. Her muzzle was stained a dark brown, startlingly different from the rest of her white pelt. But she smelled of moss and damp dirt, and toadstools, with a limp, green-gray, legging amphibian swinging from her jaws. A triumphant grin laced her muzzle, visible through the muck and grime. Falconshade stifled a laugh. They each pushed their respective catches toward the other, both staring down at the other's prey with mingled disgust and curiosity. Whitefang glanced at Falconshade slyly, golden gaze egging him on to go first._

"_Fine," He grunted, not at all excited about the prospective frog. Leaning down, he peeled back his lips from his teeth, and daintily nipped the left leg. Immediately, as if stung by a wasp, the tom sat bolt upright, tongue lolling from his muzzle like a fat pink worm, nose and eyes screwed up in a look of sheer horror._

"_Blech!" He screeched, dashing to the river to wash off his tongue. Dunking his entire face in the water. Whitefang snorted with amusement. _

"_Wussie," She snickered. He whipped his head out from under the rolling, gentle waves of snowmelt carried down from the mountains, and shook the freezing water onto her. She lept back with a shout of alarm._

"_Now you try it," Falconshade motioned toward the fat silver-scaled fish. Whitefang shook her head._

"_Nuh-uh. No way!" she mewed emphatically, shaking her head._

"_You better!" Falconshade cried, "I just ate a frog!" _

"_Ate a frog?! You barely even licked it!" Whitefang crowed._

"_So? That's more than you can say." Falconshade said irritably._

"_Oh, fine." Whitefang pouted, leaning over. With a quick swipe of her raspy tongue, the she-cat licked the open wound in the belly of the river-dweller quickly, wrinkling her nose in distaste. "Nasty!" She exclaimed. Falconshade meandered over to her and licked the little pink tongue she was trying to hold out as far away from her mouth as possible. Smacking his lips, he grinned at her. _

"_Tasty," He smirked._

"_Why you cheeky little-" Whitefang called out, all aversion to her tongue gone as she play-growled, leaping upon the sturdy ginger tabby and knocking him to the ground. Laughing, the pair tussled under the stars. Finally, Falconshade rolled on top of her, nuzzling her cheek._

"_Say it!" He laughed, pressing his nose to hers so they were exactly eye to eye._

"_Never!" Whitefang exclaimed dramatically, not looking away._

"_You know you can't resist!" Falconshade smiled as he tried to sound firm. Whitefang smiled too, looking into those Greenleaf sky-blue eyes that captured her heart._

"_I love you," She whispered, her lips still slightly parted as the words escaped out into the night air. Falconshade opened his own mouth and took a deep breath, as if taking those three words into his lungs to stay close to his heart._

"_I love you two," He replied. He leaned over, turning them onto their side, noses still pressed against each other. And they lay like that for a few, sweet moment before dawn began to break, breathing in each other's soft, warm breaths and feeling the other's heartbeat against their own chest. It was in those precious moments where Whitefang loved him most: the silence of two hearts beating as one, sharing the world, as if there was nothing there but them. Just the two._

Whitefang smiled at the sweet memory, treasuring the silence in the otherwise tumultuous roar of camp life. Rosepaw was arguing with her mentor, Grayshadow becoming more irritated the longer it lasted. With every word out of her mouth he bristled further. Whitefang narrowly resisted laughing. The pair were by far one of the most dysfunctional partnerships she'd seen since Dawnstrike and Timbermask. Perhaps Rosepaw was a bit much for the new mentor to handle. Whitefang was tempted to pad over and advise him, but she knew the proud tom wouldn't take kindly to that, even if they'd been getting along better. Beside them, Aspenkit was watching the exchange, wide-eyed. His siblings squeaked as they played, their mother's call adding to the racket. Stormtail practically has to shout to be heard, assigning patrols. The elders were complaining, and Hollowstar was trying to explain to Pinepaw why he couldn't just barge into Riverclan territory and explore as Featherfall watched them exasperatedly. With a bemused shake of her head, Whitefang plucked a feathered piece from the pile, not truly caring whether it was a chickadee or a pigeon. Plopping herself down outside the warrior's den, she settled in and sniffed at the bird she'd snatched. _Huh._ It wasn't a chickadee or a pigeon. _Well, I guess woodpecker isn't terrible._ She decided. Right as she was preparing to take her first bite, a small cough interrupted her. Looking up, Whitefang found herself gazing upon her mother. With a smile, she greeted her:

"Mother!" Whitefang mewed.

"Hello, baby." Paledove purred, sitting down beside her daughter, "Could I talk to you?" Whitefang looked from her mother to the bird, longingly. Paledove almost laughed.

"Alright, sweet, you can eat. I just wanted to talk, that's all." The silver warrior sighed.

"Okay," Whitefang said quickly before taking an enormous gulp of her prey.

"Whitefang, I just want to say…I know relationships are tough, and they require a lot of effort, but don't you think you should make up with Timbermask?" Paledove asked gently. Whitefang nearly spewed all her breakfast over her mother. And it wouldn't be the first time.

"What?" She choked, feathers puffing out of her jaws as she spoke, eyes wide.

"You, know, your mate? You two love each other, it's clear to all of us. So just make up, huh darling?" Paledove urged, mistaking Whitefang's shocked outburst for frustration.

"But Mom, we're not-" Whitefang began to protest before catching herself. She'd almost revealed their secret. Her secret.

"Come now, dear!" Paledove laughed lightly, "I want some grandkits! And at this rate, I'll be dead and gone by the time you and your leading tom even speak to each other!" Whitefang could barely think straight. _Grandkits? With Timbermask? My leading tom? Everyone can see it? What is she saying?!_

"Um, I ah, I've got to-you know, hunting…I'll see you!" Whitefang meowed hurriedly, gulping down the last of the skinny little woodpecker before darting away. _Mother!_

***Singing* It's beginning to look a lot like _filler_, lots of words all down the page! *Stops singing* Sorry not much action, but trust me, we'll be getting some next chapter! Wooooo boyyyy, yes it will be action!**

**QOTD: Well, I had previously said this was a chapter for all y'all shippers. Who will win? YOU DECIDE! (Quoting Epic rap Battles of History. Honestly, guys, I'd go and watch the Obama/Romney one, it's freaking hilarious.)**

**Next time,**

**~Bright~**

**PS Remember, contest is still open! Entries due April 20th, and all the details are on my latest chapter of WCC! Check it out if you're interested, PM me with submissions and questions!**


	58. Something In the Air

**Yummy yummy White/Falcon fluff sandwich.**

_I can't believe her!_ Whitefang thought furiously as she bolted into the forest, her fortress of solitude. _The nerve! I'll never talk to him again if this is what they think of us! We're certainly not-definitely not a-what even are we?!_ Stalking, still fuming, through the overgrown swamp weeds that tangled about her paws, Whitefang gritted her teeth. _To think that my own mother believes this ruse!_ Yet a tiny part of her mind piped up softly. _What if it isn't a ruse?_ It asked. Whitefang snorted, stomping in the mud. It splattered all up her foreleg and she scowled. _Of course it's a ruse! I will never love my sister's mate, ever. Preposterous!_ Whitefang argued silently. _You took her killer as a lover, so why not her mate too?_ The voice replied.

"Never!" Whitefang hissed out loud. Surprising herself, she jumped. "Oh, what am I doing? Arguing with myself when I know I'm right!" She muttered, disregarding the fact that she seemed crazy for talking to herself in the middle of the woods. She needed to go somewhere to think. She couldn't hunt, Whitefang knew she would shred whatever she caught until it was unrecognizable as a once living creature. Shaking her head as if to clear it, Whitefang decided what would be best was to go and check on the cherry trees. Then she would hunt. And if all was good, she would take him to the trees tonight. Falconshade. She could practically envision the look on his face when he saw the grove in all of its glory. It would be magical. And they would finally have it, their moment under the stars in a nest of moss and petals. It was more than just a place: it was a ritual of love. It had been Paledove's favorite place, and Stonetail had brought Goldenfrost there as well. Whitefang was sure Swanmist had shown it to Timbermask. Now, she was the last to go. And she would make it count. Prowling through the blooming forest, Whitefang basked in the soft, warm Newleaf glow of fresh leaves and sunshine. sure, it was damp. But it was soaked with the water of life. New life, and new beginnings.

Whitefang could practically taste the sweet dew in the air, and the smell of flowers not yet blossomed, their tiny pink buds emerging from the fresh pale blades of grass sprouting up in the mud. The dainty Lady of the Valley with their bell-like blooms had already broken open, letting their thick fragrance loose in the swamps. White clumps, fringed with thick waxy leaves, littered the underbrush. Thistles were coming into being as well, their purple fuzzy heads popping from the drab, scraggly forms of the snow-beaten bushes. New leaves speckled the dripping branches, glistening with soft droplets. They unfurled as pale golden sunlight streaming through the fragmented, empty canopy hit them, causing the tightly wound spring green fronds to unwind. They released the sweet scent of new life to the pleasant Newleaf air, bustling with gentle breezes. The branches swayed, and the clinging dewdrops fell quickly, spattering her head with small pricks of cold. Whitefang flicked her ears and shook out her pelt, but the water had already seeped through her thick pelt and spread upon her sensitive skin, making her shiver as the cool rivulets ran over her spine.

She padded over cushions of saturated moss, squishing with every step and soaking her toes. With the watery squish-squash-splash sounds of the ground, and the croaking slurps of mud and toads, Whitefang breathed a long sigh of relief. This is where she was meant to be. The twitter of birds back from their Leafbare away was a comfort, as was the pitter patter of mice over wet leaves and the frantic scamper of squirrels through the bare branches. She wondered momentarily if any were the squirrels she'd spared, or even if any of the birds happened to be the sparrows she'd saved. She couldn't even remember their names anymore: it seemed like lifetimes ago. Lifetimes ago, back when Swanmist was happily alive and pregnant, back when Whitefang was a hobbling cripple on her splinted broken leg, back when Timbermask hated her and she would never have dreamed of her mother speaking to her like a daughter, or Barkpaw being an alley king, or even herself taking a mate from another Clan. So many things had changed, and it wasn't even so long ago. Some things she missed, some she didn't.

She missed her sister, and what could've been her nieces and nephews, she missed not knowing the pain of death or loss, she missed the feeling of sisterly companionship. She didn't miss, however, Timbermask's incessant cruelty, or her mother's disgust, or her clanmate's disgust. She was glad she'd gotten Stormfall, and that she'd found love, and known what it felt like to be loved. Somehow, things may have evened out, but things had never truly seemed more difficult. The voice in her head was right; she'd chosen her sister's murderer as a lover, and Timbermask was a bothersome pesk that most assumed to be her mate. She was breaking the code as well as her promise. _But...but this is everything I've ever wanted. To be accepted, to feel loved and wanted. To be needed and appreciated. I have a wonderful mate, my parents are kind and there for me, I have friends and clanmates who know who I really am and see me as a worthy warrior. I am respected, loved, accepted. What more is there? Why can't I be happy?_ She wondered, feeling a throbbing ache in her heart. _Because_, said the little voice, that voice that she knew was very nearly right, _You have broken your promise. You are no loyal clanmate, you're breaking the warrior code. Your sister's mate is after you, and you are lying to your clanmates. You are no warrior. You're no better than Barkpaw._

"Shut up!" Whitefang howled. Then, she realized she had screamed it out loud. _I am nothing like him._ She assured herself, _He's self-centered, a dirty, mangy fleabag with no thought for any cat but himself. That isn't me._ She decided, holding her head up high. But that feeling still tugged at her, as if bringing her heart to her stomach and twisting them together. _Isn't it?_

She continued on until she reached the grove, trying hard not to focus on anything but the crisp feel of Newleaf against her pelt. Once she was close, the scent of cherry blossoms filled the air.

"Yes," She breathed. They had bloomed. She quickened her pace, nearly running into the glade. Once there, the sight that never failed to amaze her lived up to its promise.

The sky was pale blue, and yet the pink-white petals of the cherry tree shone against it. Whitefang breathed in their familiar, sweet, scent and smiled. It was so beautiful, magical, just the same wonder as it had been the first time. The lone cherry tree stood proud in the center of the clearing, surrounded by a blanket of the thickest, softest emerald green moss there ever was. The branches: twisted, gnarled, and tangled with age, still held themselves with a kind of ageless pride, and the bark was fresh and dark as a sapling's. Whitefang noticed the tiny saplings that seemed to be gathering in clumps around the edges of the clearing, most likely cherries carried away by birds, the pits dropped to seed themselves deep into the fertile soil. Large, pink and white flowers settled themselves among the early leaves of the cherry tree, and petals fell periodically and drifted to and fro. She remembered the many journeys here, she remembered speaking with her father about the stars and the petals and about love and its mysteries. She remembered watching Swanmist discover her father and Goldenfrost's secret beneath these very branches. Now, she just sat beneath the tree, letting the petals float around her like fluttering pale butterflies, just as they had many many many moons ago. Whitefang let herself lean against the sturdy trunk of the lone tree and sigh against its smooth, soft bark. She breathed in the sweet perfume, and wondered when the tree would fruit. They were always a treat to kittens: the stems made for endless games and the pits were tossed unceremoniously, the ugly duckling in the seemingly perfect ruby-colored juicy fruit.

And yet, the pits were the most important parts. They were the seeds that held futures, tiny lives that lay dormant behind the hard brown shell. The shell, the seed, so rough and unattractive. Yet, given enough water and sunlight and just the right amount of time, the pit soon became the most beautiful of all. It sprouted and grew, blossoming into a scrawny sapling of now true beauty. Later, it grew taller and thicker, big enough to support a few small white and pink buds that soon turn to heavy purple-red berries. Then, soon enough, that tiny form becomes a great tree, the proudest and most beautiful in all the forests, marshes, valleys and moors. From such humble beginnings came a thing of glorious being.

Whitefang vowed to return that night and bring Falconshade. She felt the irrational, wonderful need to share her treasure with the one she knew would truly appreciate its wonder. She rose from her spot beneath the tree and stretched, feeling comforted, as if held in the embrace of an old friend. She padded away slowly, already scenting the air for prey. Catching a strong whiff of a nearby vole, Whitefang set out to follow the trail diligently. She'd been far too useless already this morning.

* * *

><p>"I'm back," She grunted around the prey dripping from her jaws. A pair of mice accompanied the vole she caught, and she placed them proudly atop the now-overflowing freshkill pile. With a satisfied grin, Whitefang carried the two mice over the Jumpfire and Frecklestep, the only remaining elders. The old toms were lounging about in the sunshine, and their faces brightened as Whitefang approached.<p>

"Hello there, young'un. We haven't seen you in a while." Jumpfire purred. His tone was not meant to be accusatory, but Whitefang felt guilty nonetheless.

"I'm sorry. I should come to visit more often. I mean, it's not like you live a long ways away." She joked lightly, dropping the mice by their paws. "I brought you a little something, fresh caught and spring-grass fed. Maybe a little dew in there too." Frecklestep leaned forward, and sniffed the mice, relying on his nose now more than ever thanks to his failing eyesight.

"They smell divine. Thank you, Whitefang." He mewed pleasantly, picking up one of the mice and proceeding to take a fairly large bite. Jumpfire joined him. Whitefang sat beside them and smiled as the warm sunshine hit her pelt, turning it a pale gold instead of gnarled white. She blinked her eyes as startlingly bright rays blinded her. Jumpfire paused in his meal and gazed at the young warrior with a soft smile.

"You look lovely today, dear." He complimented her. Whitefang turned away bashfully.

"Thanks, but really I look the same." She replied awkwardly, smoothing her crumpled whiskers.

"He's right darlin'. You make me think of my daughter." Frecklestep added after swallowing, "She was a little clumsy, a little tangle-furred, and oh, when she was a kit there was always trouble! But she grew into a lovely, independent she-cat just like you." Whitefang listened, interested.

"I don't think I've ever heard you talk about your daughter, Frecklestep." She mewed.

"For good reason!" Jumpfire snorted, eyeing his aging friend, "She isn't of Shadowclan!"

"She was," Frecklestep protested, eyes clouding with memories, "And I wish she still were. I haven't seen her in so long..."

"What do you mean she isn't of Shadowclan?" Whitefang pressed curiously.

"Frecklestep broke the code and took a mate from Riverclan." Jumpfie explained as the gray, white spotted tom was lost in thought, "Fell for a pretty lass, but it didn't last. We took the kits, of course. Hawkstar was adamant that they would grow up in their father's Clan. But, of course, Frecklestep couldn't bear to see his lady unhappy. So he gave them back. He kept one, though." He nodded to Addershriek, who was sitting with Blueshine at the other side of camp. The powerful, dark tabby with piercing hazel eyes looked nothing like the frail dark gray and white flecked tom with misty yellow eyes.

"But-" She wondered. Jumpfire cut her off.

"Yes, Addershriek looks more like his mother. But you may be surprised to hear that Frecklestep was built just like his son back in the day." The black tom smiled, and Whitefang purred. Turning to Frecklestep, she asked:

"So, what did your daughter look like?"

"Oh, she was lovely. Looked more like me than her mother, though, as did her other brother." The tom said, shaken from his reverie. "Gorgeous long-furred gray she-cat, with shining green eyes and one white paw. She was so bouncy and bubbly. Everyone loved her. And her brother, he was a piece of work! Looked just like me, with my eyes, too. Adventurous little bugger with a wild streak. That's eventually what got him killed..." Frecklestep sighed sadly, "Went out as an apprentice to hunt the badger bothering Riverclan and got himself killed...his mother died saving him...when I make it to Starclan, I just hope she didn't take another tom, and that she'll have waited for me. I didn't see my daughter at all after she left for Riverclan, it was her brother I spoke to, and her mother. Addershriek was the one who told me when Firbreeze was expecting kits with that Starclan-forsaken Riverclan tom. And when I reach Starclan, after seeing my lovely Starlingshine and Frostpaw, I'll teach that arrogant bastard a lesson he won't forget..." Frecklestep muttered, drifting further away. Whitefang felt for the aging tom.

"I'd leave him be. After he gets like this, he doesn't speak for a little while." Jumpfire mewed apologetically.

"It's alright, Jumpfire." Whitefang purred, nuzzling the old tom's cheek, "I should catch a patrol anyway. I'll visit again soon."

"Have a good day, Whitefang." Jumpfire said before returning to his meal. Whitefang nodded to him, though he didn't see, before she walked away. She passed her mother without a second glance, still upset the silver warrior had assumed she and Timbermask were mates. She passed her father as well, seeing as he was with her mother. Stonetail watched her go and shook his head before turning back to Paledove. A little something inside of Whitefang broke. Just a few moons before, her father would run after her to make sure she was alright, instead of watching her walk away. A few moons before, they would sit under the moon and talk, her head on his shoulder, and he would tell her all sorts of stories to make her smile. It felt as if she'd lost a little piece of herself. _I suppose he thinks now I have others willing to chase me. Others to care for me, so he no longer has to._ She stiffened her stride out of sheer pride; no one would make her sulk. Not today. _If he thinks he doesn't have to care anymore, let him._ She thought, feeling as if that broken shard of her heart was stabbing her. I don't need him. _I'm no Daddy's girl anymore, I'm a warrior. A grown she-cat with a life to live. I hold my future in capable paws._ As soon as she thought that, Addershriek appeared in her mind. But it was not the Addershriek she knew. This was the dream tom, with empty hazel eyes as soulless as ice, and repeating messages just as cold. _"This is not your story." Addershriek had said._

_"My story is unwritten!" Whitefang snarled in return._

_"You must return."_

_"Never!"_

_"There are choices to be made, but the outcome is the same. There is very little time for you."_

_"Stop it!"_

_"The choices are made. The outcome is the same. No time…no time…"_

_"I determine my own fate!"_

_"Toss a pebble in a river, the current stays the same. No time…No time…"_

Whitefang shivered at the memory, and realized with a jolt that there was no more spring sun to warm her. It was sinking below the skeleton-trees, buds lost to the shadows, as the glowing golden orb turned a burning, passionate orange. It lit the sky on fire with reds and dark oranges and golds, fading to a pale purple twilight. She stood by the camp entrance and watched it change quickly: the lilac darkened to deep purple, flecked with blues. The blues darkened, and turned to an inky navy before shifting ever so subtly to black. Whitefang noticed that there was just enough of a blueish tint to keep the stars at bay, and she had a few precious moments to get Falconshade to the grove in time to see the stars come out. Just as she was leaving, eyes fixed on the distant Riverclan border, a large body pushed itself ahead of her, barring her way.

"Whitefang," Timbermask's voice was soft.

"No. Not tonight." She hissed, frustrated. He ruined everything!

"Not tonight what?" Timbermask asked, hurt, but he kept his voice quiet. To the rest of them, they just seemed to be lovers whispering. Whitefang knew that they both knew better.

"I'm not playing mates tonight, fool," She snapped, "I have business."

"Illegal business," Timbermask protested gently, "Can't it wait? Just one night, Whitefang, I'm only asking for one night. One of a thousand empty nights!"

"Timbermask, I have to go!" She growled, keeping her voice low, furtively watching the sky. The blue was fading fast. She needed to get to the grove. _To Falconshade..._

"One night!" Timbermask implored, his gaze beseechingly searching her face, dark pools of emerald.

"No." Whitefang said firmly. He reached over to run his muzzle across her cheek, but she jerked her head away, "No." She repeated. Shoving past him, Whitefang padded defiantly through the tunnel. Timbermask watched her go. She heard the murmurs of clanmates, and Timbermask's shaking voice assuring them, "She just needed a walk, just a walk. It's only for one night. Just some space...just for tonight...she'll come back..." He seemed to be convincing himself as well. Whitefang didn't care. She bolted through the forest, twigs whipping her face mercilessly as she pounded onward. Reaching the river, breathless, he was easily spotted. The dark ginger tabby pelt glowed even while the moon was still rising, as if he carried a light of his on. She nearly choked on the purr that rose so suddenly in her throat. She needed him today.

"Come," She gasped, pressing against his side and nudging him onto her territory.

"What?" He wondered, watching as she pushed him insistently forward.

"I have...a surprise! Don't you remember?" She wheezed with a grin. He chuckled.

"Don't you think you should pause a moment before pulling a fishy smelling Riverclan tom across your territory?" He asked, dropping to the ground to roll in a strong-scented patch of barley. Whitefang hoped Shiverspots didn't need it.

"Hurry up!" She whined as he shook out his pelt.

"Alright!" He exclaimed good-naturedly.

"Close your eyes," Whitefang murmured, swiping her tail gently over his eyelids, which shut upon her touch.

"Don't let me fall," Falconshade breathed, though his heartbeat was steady. Whitefang watched him admirably: how far they'd come! She'd gotten him to trust her...and even after she'd nearly slit his throat he kept that trust. The warrior decided she'd never met such a loyal tom, and that she would never again. He was different.

"I would never want to lose you," She whispered. Laying her tail across his shoulders, she led him along her path. Ducking occasional branches, whispering commands and directions, they wandered through the darkened woodland. Him blind, her blinded by him, they padded side by side, each relying on the other. She never knew she could ever need someone so much.

"Finally," She sighed, "We're here."

"May I?" Falconshade teased, gesturing to his eyes with his tail.

"Be by guest, love." She purred. Whitefang did not watch the tree as he opened his eyes, brilliant as the day she'd first saw him. She focused on him. His gaze widened as he took in the scene, the silver moonlight illuminating the white and pink hued petals that drifted like warm snowflakes and coated the mossy ground in a carpet of rosy tones. The great cherry tree, reflected in his starlit gaze, seemed even more magical as it shone in the bright blue depths. The scent hit them in waves on the pleasant winds, soft as kitten's fur. The sweet, fragrant perfume floating by their sensitive noses like tiny, invisible dancers through a pink and white parade of petals.

"Whoa," Falconshade exhaled, his hot breath let out in a whoosh.

"Follow me," Whitefang whispered, as if to speak would taint the magic. The tom, starry-eyed, followed her through the flurries to the base of the tree. There was the moss, soft and plush, and it smelled like earth and life and sweet dew in the morning, as the dawn light hit it just right. She lowered herself into it, careful not to crush the delicate green cushion. She pulled him down tenderly beside her, and felt his light breaths on her ears as she tucked herself beneath his chin.

"Look," He exclaimed, voice low and soft, "The first star." It was the brightest jewel of the sky, shining and silver and gleaming there above them. Whitefang, at first, thought of saying that it was Swanmist. But she knew he would cry. So she decided to say nothing, and do nothing, but shift in their makeshift nest and stare up at the sky.

"Another one!" She said excitedly in the same tone. One by one they counted the stars until there were enough to fill the sky a million times, their pale light shining down to dance across the floating flowers. The moonbeams were far more delicate tonight than any other, she decided. Far from the bright, sharp silver light, it was a creamy white, tinged with pale gray.

"It's a beautiful night," Falconshade sighed pleasantly. She felt his chest relax against her's. "And a beautiful place."

"Yes," Whitefang breathed, as if all other words had been whisked away, right from her throat.

"But," The tom murmured, "Nothing could ever compare to the she-cat I'm sharing it with."

"Oh really?" She giggled, cuddling closer. She felt so different here...she was not the stony shell of Whitefang. Instead, she was fluffy, mushy Whitefang, who could snuggle beside a tom under the light of the moon without saying something snarky. She was soft and pliable, like her heart was warmed into a thick, gooey mess by the gorgeous tom she was sharing this moment with. And she liked it.

"Really. And...I don't know. Words can't describe what I'm feeling for you right now. Is that good? Bad? I'm not sure. But it feels right." Falconshade purred.

"I'll settle for silence." Whitefang whispered against him. They stayed there like that for a while, staring at the sky, and, periodically, each other. The longer they lay there, though, the more she felt something build between them. Something she couldn't quite explain. Then, it exploded.

* * *

><p>She wasn't quite sure what came over her that night. Maybe it was the way his eyes sparkled, or the warmth of his smile. Maybe it was the tender touches, or the soulful sounds made by the same mouth that spilled the quick breaths upon her. Maybe it was something about the glow of his fur in the night, or his shoulder pressed against hers. It could've been something in the air, something special, something extra magical, or Starclan sent. Or it could've been the scent of cherry. But whatever it was, she'd never felt so right.<p>

**I'm hungry.**

**Okay, so, now that you've read this, go listen to Can You Feel The Love Tonight and Love Will Find a Way from Lion King and Lion King 2. Like honestly, those were my total inspiration. YAAASSSS WERK IT KOVU WERK**

**QOTD: So...groves...what will happen next? O.O :3**

**~Bright out~**


	59. I Am Not My Mother

**Here we are again, and I'm proud to say we're reaching another climax.**

Whitefang was tired. And she was never tired. It seemed like the day had stretched far too long, and that she had been on her paws for every second of it. It seemed like nightfall, not midday. And she was exhausted.

"Are you alright?" Timbermask asked. She brushed him off.

"Fine." She said brusquely. She had, of course, made up with the tom in the public's view, but she truly felt further from him than ever before. He seemed to sense it as well.

"Are you sure?" He pressed, padding closer.

"Fine!" She exclaimed, taking a few angry paces away from him. She was so tired she felt as though she may hurl. It had been weeks since her moonlit revelation beneath the cherry tree wrapped cozily about her mate, and she missed it desperately. Of course she'd been seeing him nearly every night, and yes they were even closer than ever, but it still wasn't enough. She needed him by her side. And yet he couldn't be. His brother's mate had just died, and he was needed by his family more than ever. _Do they need him more than I do?_ Whitefang wondered desperately. It raced through her mind everyday. And Timbermask was no help.

"Whitefang, you look ill." He mumbled, concern flooding his voice.

"I told you, I'm fine!" She snapped, feeling a little woozy. The sick feeling was growing in her stomach. She'd thought the squirrel had tasted a little sour last night.

"You don't look fine. Go see Shiverspots and get yourself checked out." The tom frowned.

"Not on your life." Whitefang hissed, "This little talk is over!" She stormed away into the woods, footsteps heavy as she pounded the ground at her snail-like pace. The further she walked, the more lightheaded she became, and the more bile rose in the throat. She heard Timbermask pounding after her, and quickened her pace.

"Whitefang!" He called, but his voice was fuzzy in her ears.

"Go away!" She tried to shout back, but instead of words, vomit spilled from her mouth and onto the forest floor. She keeled over, hacking and coughing, splattering the spring foliage with putrid red-orange chunks.

"Whitefang!" Timbermask yelled again, fearful this time as he heard her retch. Nothing more seemed to come up, and the space in her head behind her eyes seemed thick and full. Her head heavy, Whitefang sank to the ground, dry-heaving. A sour, rotten smell rose up around her as her bile met the air, and it she promptly gagged again. He face felt hot and swollen, her body made of lead. It was the least she could do to keep her eyes open, and even they were beginning to haze over. The trees became tall green and brown blurs, the sky and crushing, rippling waterfall of blinding blue. The bushes seemed to shake and quiver with every wracking cough, and the blades of grass before her nose came alive, dancing like grasshoppers around her heavy form. Bluebird's sweet songs turned to screeching calls, and black dots swam across her vision. She longer heard Timbermask, but the very ground seemed to quake with every step she was sure was his. A sharp something clamped itself about her scruff and heaved her up and out of the pool of her own sick. Her head rattled and jolted back of forth, and it seemed that her own thoughts were crushing her skull like a rock fall. It was then that she gave into the pain. Whitefang passed out.

* * *

><p>She was running through the dark, shadowy place she felt she'd been to once before. It was a forest, a swamp, a more, cut through with slithering rivers, everything strange and somehow familiar. The place she was in was cloaked in shades of black and gray and dark green, though still slightly discernible were the features of the place. Through the shadow, she could tell hazily that she was in Shadowclan territory. A buffeting wind pierced her fur, and chilled her very bones. And soon, blurry, shady snowflakes began to fall. The ground was covered, and for some reason, Whitefang felt the need to press forward, wading through the snow. she remembered this, distantly, like a memory or a dream. She moved on, gusts pushing her back so hard she had to squint to see vague outlines. Soon, a high-pitched scream echoed through the forest. Whitefang recognized the scream. And suddenly, the realization dawned on her. that was Swanmist's scream. Swanmist was here. She surged forward, desperately trying to reach the sound of the scream so eerily familiar, yet so different. She soon smelt blood. It bathed her paws. <em>I am here, they're dead. Dead, again, like they were before.<em> She moaned in her head as the shadows cleared, revealing her sister lying in the snow, sobbing and howling to Starclan as the three precious, frozen mounds, speckled in ruby colored paw prints sat motionlessly in the storm. _Not again, not again!_ She thought as both she and Quietdream dashed forward. "_Whitefang...I was walking, and my stomach...it hurt so badly, Whitefang." _She whispered softly, eyes welling with tears,_ "Whitefang...I buried them. Whitefang, I had too...I don't know what happened, Whitefang, but they were so small..." _Swanmist's voice was low and strained, eyes staring at three lumps of snow, spotted with pale ruby patches. Patches in the shape of paw prints. Whitefang's eyes widened.

_"Three, Whitefang. They were so small, so innocent...and they just lay there. I tried to make them breathe, to move, but they weren't ready. I don't know why...Whitefang, why does Starclan hate me?"_ She howled, pressing her face to the snow. Whitefang dashed to her side, and nuzzled her sister's shoulder.

_"They're all dead...gone...I-I wish I were dead..." _Swanmist whimpered. Whitefang felt her heart break.

Then, she was on the edge of the shadowy territory, looking over the border to catch a glimpse of glittering, sparkling water. The outlines of everything were undefined, and the colors melded together, as if determined to keep her location a secret. Whitefang felt pelts press around her, choking her, and the scream came again, shorter, and more final. _Swanmist!_ Whitefang wanted to scream, to move, for knew knew where she was. Once again, through the shadows and haze, blood seeped through her thick white pelt, staining it crimson, she heard faint whispers, unmistakably words, and felt fury flood her heart. _Avenge you...I'm sorry!_ Whitefang thought desperately, trying to spot Swanmist through the whirling scene. A flash of her sister's battered, lifeless body on the ground seemed to pull the last breath from her lungs, and she choked, stumbling, as she watched them carry her away. _No..._

The scene changed, and she was stalking the shadowy forest floor. It was a forest, she decided, because foggy spots of what must be sunlight dappled the ground. A very familiar forest. Whitefang did not know where she was, or why, but she knew her heart had shattered. It could break no more, she decided. Her claws were unsheathed. A strong voice came out from behind the trees, along with a shape, huge and cloaked in ever changing grays, and she felt the hate bubble within her. _Falconshade, you killed her. But I love you._ She thought as the shape came into focus and revealed itself to be her beloved. The hate soon changed to warmth, and the scene soon changed to shadowy oranges and golds, leaves' obscured forms crossing her vision, though they were certainly leaves. The shape grew closer, and she grew excited. The warmth spread from the tips of her ears to her toes, and her fur quivered with anticipation. _Falconshade._

She was lying in a warm, dark space that smelled of milk. Small, round shadows squirmed at her belly. Fear and guilt welled in her heart, and poured from her eyes as tears. She rose, and fled the space, out into the open, where the only thing in the dim, fuzzy world that was sharp and crystal clear were the stars. She followed them through the shifting darkness, and heard the babbling of a brook. The light of the tiny diamonds in the sky dimmed until they seemed eons away. Her vision went dark. She felt herself falling, falling, and then almost flying. The scene was dark. And she was lost, her heart a mess of shards.

"Whitefang?" A soft voice lifted Whitefang from her stupor, and she woke gratefully.

"Shiverspots?" She rasped, her voice sounding like she'd swallowed thorns and coated it in swamp sludge.

"Hey," the young she-cat grinned, passing the groggy warrior a small bundle of herbs, "You've got a pretty nasty spring fever there. You should be glad it wasn't worse, or there could've been complications." The pale gray medicine cat turned back to her herb store to fetch some honey to soothe Whitefang's throat. Whitefang blinked, confused.

"Complications?" She wheezed, shifting her paws nervously in her nest, face feeling flushed and swollen, though less so than before. Shiverspots turned back around and smiled sympathetically.

"Oh, right. Shyfawn said she-cats were never able to tell in the beginning. Silly me! I'm still new to this whole single medicine cat stuff," Waterfall's daughter mumbled embarrassingly before regaining her composure, "Well, you're three weeks pregnant. That's why the fever was stronger than spring fevers usually are, because your body is already trying to sustain extra lives." Whitefang listened in shock, staring at the medicine cat with disbelief.

"I'm what?" She coughed. Shiverspots passed her the honeycomb, which she ate with little protest.

"Pregnant." Shiverspots repeated simply, "When you tell Timbermask I'm sure he'll be excited. And you don't have to move to the nursery until you're ready, though I suggest no later than the moon before you're due, which is approximately the middle of Greenleaf. Once you get over this little bout you'll be back on your paws in no time," the she-cat seemed to have taken Whitefang's confused shock as pleasant surprise. The warrior still couldn't believe it. _Me, pregnant? Me, a mother? Little lives, growing inside of me! I never thought...that this would be me. I have to tell Falconshade! When will I tell him? How will I tell Timbermask? I won't tell Timbermask, not yet...or should I? I should, but I won't like it. And Falconshade! He'll be so excited...I wonder how many we'll have? Toms or she-cats? Both? One, two, three? Four?! Five?!_ Mind whirling, she stared with a blank golden gaze at the nest. Shiverspots must've figured her eyes had merely glazed over from fever. Whitefang's decided she would tell Falconshade first, it was only proper to have the father know first. She still hadn't the foggiest idea what she'd do as a mother. Or how to mother. She knew she couldn't quite go to Paledove for advice, but her mother would be a source of comfort. Maybe Cherrynose could help; Honeypaw, Aspenpaw, and Sorrelpaw were all fine young cats, and Bouncestrike and Whitefang's tortie friend were planning for another litter soon in the future.

"How long will I be here? How long does the fever last?" Whitefang asked quickly as Shiverspots began to walk away. The pretty young she-cat looked over her shoulder at the warrior with a small smile.

"Usually cats have cleared up within two days, but in your condition I'd expect you'll be better in about four." She mewed.

"Can't you make it go faster?" Whitefang pleaded, aware of how kit-like she sounded.

"No, I'm sorry." Shiverspots purred in amusement, "But these things take their time." Whitefang huffed, and settled back into her nest, fever sweat pouring down her back and face, succumbing to the hot flashes she'd been resisting as she spoke with Shiverspots. Her throat was parched, her eyes crusty. It was at that moment that she recognized how miserable she felt. And how much her life was going to change. _I never thought I'd be a queen, or have a mate and family. _she thought, _And here I am. I am going to be a mother._ A sinking feeling crept into her stomach, weighing her down with heavy stones. _Mother, to the kits of my sister's murderer. Oh, Swanmist, Falconshade...what have I done?_

* * *

><p>The first day passed slowly. Very slowly. Whitefang felt nearly as miserable as before.<p>

She chased Timbermask away from her under the false pretense of protecting him from sickness. It was hard to eat, and mostly to swallow. And every drop of water felt cool and sweet at first, but the sensation evaporated just as quickly as it had arrived. She downed three honeycombs, and snapped at Rosepaw. It was not a good day.

* * *

><p>The second day was not much better. Her head throbbed mightily, and her belly churned all day with moments where she felt as though she'd spill her intestines from her throat. Her eyes crusted over so she could not see, but the fever had lessened. Sweat no longer pooled between her shoulder blades.<p>

Around midday, Shiverspots changed the moss of her nest. Stonetail and Paledove came to visit. Whitefang felt as though she regained a little bit of what she'd once shared with her father as he lay beside her. She managed to choke down a little of the sparrow that her mother had brought her. She promptly threw it up when they left.

Her night was restless, and she wished to remember her fever-induced dream. Alas, it didn't return to her. Her memories were black and gray and fuzzy.

* * *

><p>Day three was far better, she ate with Cherrynose and the ever so pregnant and klutzy Duckflight, made even clumsier by the sheer girth of her belly. Whitefang watched, and hoped she wouldn't grow that wide. It seemed to her that she-cats lost their personality once they became queens. She vowed she would not be one of them.<p>

She managed to remove herself from her nest and walk a short ways around camp before basking in the sun alongside the elders. Her head still throbbed dully and her tongue was cracked and dry.

She slept easier, assisted by poppy seeds.

* * *

><p>Day four she felt herself again and wanted desperately to go on patrol. She wasn't allowed, and spent the rest of her day sulking in the corners of camp, watching the apprentices and warriors jealously.<p>

* * *

><p>Then, she was released. On her first day free, Whitefang took a run. Out of shape and out of breath, she slowed by the Thunderclan border, wheezing. But the fresh air filled her lungs like a breath of new life.<p>

Keenly aware of the lives inside of her, she hunted with care, avoiding Timbermask at all costs. He was as bothersome as a mayfly. She knew she had to tell him, though. But she had to get to Falconshade first. After a day spent in the forest, she returned to the Riverclan border, and waited, at sunset, for her love to arrive.

Whitefang was nervous. She waited, tail twisting itself in knots, paws churning the dirt.

He was late.

"Whitefang?" Falconshade called, curious, "You're early."

"Yes," She stammered, "I have something to say, something important." Falconshade looked at her peculiarly.

"Alright," He mewed, "I'm listening." He sat down beside her gently, "You look worried."

"I am worried!" She exclaimed, all the nervous energy inside of her exploding as night fell softly around them, "I'm worried, and-and scared and lost! I need you to come to Shadowclan! Right now!" She pleaded desperately. Falconshade wrapped himself around her.

"Tell me, tell me what's wrong..." He murmured, rocking her gently back and forth as he would a kit.

"I'm pregnant," She whispered faintly. He pulled away almost immediately and stared her down, blue on gold. A wild grin spread across his muzzle, so bright and sunny that it seemed as though it was midday instead of midnight.

"That's fantastic!" He purred. Whitefang sniffed and shook her head.

"No, no..." She cried, "I can't raise them alone! Not alone, Falconshade, they deserve two parents! Two loving parents, they deserve to have everything. Everything I never had. And...and I'm worried I won't be able to give them any of that." She said faintly, realizing, for the first time, that she was her mother. She didn't want these kits, because she couldn't stand the responsibility, the hardship and heartache. Her stomach twisted. _I've become my mother._

She thought, nauseated. "I've become my mother."

"You are not your mother!" Falconshade hissed suddenly, "Whitefang, you are strong, independent, and beautiful. Don't listen to anyone who tells you anything different. I'll come to Shadowclan as soon as possible, baby, I promise you won't have to raise them alone. They'll have two loving parents, I swear to Starclan they will." He announced, pressing against her side and licking her cheek comfortingly. "I just have to be there for my brother a little longer, love. Just a little longer, and then I'll come to you." Whitefang took a deep breath in and let it out. _He's right. I am Whitefang, and I am strong. I'm not Paledove, nor will I ever be. I'll give my kittens everything I never had._

"You're right." She said, nuzzling him, "As you always are."

"Now, you should go home and get some sleep," Falconshade murmured, "I'm sorry I have to cut this short, love, but my mother's sick and I've got to stay with Rowanfoot tonight while she gets better. I'll see you tomorrow."

"It's alright, do what you have to." Whitefang smiled. She felt better, just getting this off her chest and seeing his face. She hoped they had his eyes.

"Goodnight, sweet dreams." Falconshade sighed.

"Goodnight," Whitefang purred, brushing her tail along his cheek before she left. Heart lighter, steps higher, she pranced back to camp.

"You're back early," Timbermask rumbled. He used to wait up for her every night, undeterred when she pushed past him without a word. But lately he'd been avoiding her as well. Whitefang knew she should do it now. He was in a good mood, she knew. Happy she'd returned early. The light had come back into his eyes, if not for just a moment.

"Timbermask," She said, voice steadier than before, "I need to tell you something."

"Tell me what?" He asked curiously, taking a step closer.

"I'm pregnant," She choked out, her voice suddenly getting thick. Timbermask took a step back, eyes dimming.

"Oh. Well, ah, I guess that's good. Yeah. Congratulations." He muttered, looking away. Whitefang watched him, under the glow of the moon. So fragile, so small as the early Greenleaf wind brushed past them in a hurry, gusts of hot air ruffling their pelts. He'd been giving up on her, but now she needed him. She needed him in the Clan like a dying, flopping fish needed water to sustain its life. But he was walking away.

"Timbermask!" She called after him softly, running to him. He turned slowly, staring at her with an empty emerald gaze.

"Whitefang, stop it. It's over. I can't-I won't do this to you anymore. It was selfish. Now you can live your life." He sighed.

"No, Timbermask," she pleaded, "Timbermask, I need you." His ears twitched, though is back was still turned.

"For what?" He asked, voice low and slow.

"I need you…to be their father. Just-just until Falconshade can be there for them. They need two parents who'll love them, Timbermask, they need everything I never had." She watched him with beseeching golden eyes, knowing it was terrible for her to ask so much from a tom who'd lost everything. And yet…he turned around.

"I'll be there for them," He said, warmth flooding his voice, "I'll be there for them forever, Whitefang, even when they don't need me anymore. Whitefang…" He murmured.

"Thank you," She breathed. He convinced her to sleep by his side that night, curled up on the thick nest of moss where she knew her sister had spent long nights before. But for some reason, Whitefang wasn't thinking of Swanmist anymore. She had something special, something alive to keep her thoughts on now. She didn't protest when Timbermask draped a long leg over her belly and pulled her closer. She knew these kits would need every ounce of protection they'd get.

**And now the kits have been introduced! We're fast approaching the next plot-determining scene, and then *sniff* there's only one more big event. We're nearing the end, my friends, we have about thirteen chapters left before the grand finale. Maybe a few more if I'm feeling generous.**

**QOTD: The KITS, do you have any idea how they'll be accepted?**

**Love, **

**~Bright~**


	60. Instinct In Sync

**Quick update, no? And yes, kits! YEAH!**

When Whitefang woke up in the morning, she woke to a chattering camp. It seemed that while she was asleep, Timbermask had made it his job to tell every single cat in all of Shadowclan that she was expecting kits. He had made sure to say they were his kits.

"Great Starclan," Whitefang mumbled as she rose from her nice cozy nest. She shook out her pelt, making it look messier than ever. Her golden eyes adjusted slowly to the blinding morning sunlight as she stepped out of the den, but her ears couldn't stand the noise. The first cats to come up to her were her parents, naturally.

"This is wonderful news!" Paledove gushed, gazing fondly at her daughter. Whitefang felt her stomach sink as she remembered the days when Paledove only spoke of her that way in her dreams. She pushed the memories aside in favor of the moment.

"Isn't it?" She smiled despite her grogginess, "And Timbermask is practically bouncing off the walls." This was true, though she almost wished it weren't. The tabby tom was completely believable as he pranced about camp, talking about the kits to every cat he saw.

"Congratulations," Stonetail purred, "You'll make an excellent mother, sweet. I'm so proud of you." In the warmth of his golden gaze, Whitefang felt as though she was slowly regaining what she once had with her father.

"Thanks, Papa." She mewed softly. His face softened like her voice, and he stepped forward to embrace her. She felt at peace nestled in his thick gray and white fur, tucked beneath his chin like when she was a kit, and even when she was a 'paw. The sense of closeness she had used to feel daily was like a drop of shining honey amidst a field of sour berries, and she savored it. When he pulled away, her mother jumped at the chance to speak, breaking the charged moment.

"When are they due?" she asked eagerly, blue eyes sparkling. These kits would be her only chance at grandkits. Whitefang realized her parents were growing older, much older than she had thought, and that she too was no longer young as she wished.

"Mid-Greenleaf. Plenty of time, Mother, Greenleaf came so early this season." Whitefang assured her. Paledove nodded, grinning.

"Oh, darling, this is so wonderful! You simply must make yourself a nest in the nur-" She began excitedly, only to be cut off by a sharp word from Whitefang.

"No! Absolutely not. I don't intend to loll about when I'm perfectly able to continue with my warrior duties." Whitefang shook her head, "I won't go into the nursery until the last possible second, I assure you!" Paledove frowned.

"Whitefang, be reasonable-" she mewed.

"I am reasonable! Papa, give me a border patrol." She said stubbornly, turning to her father. Stonetail glanced at his furious mate and shrugged his shoulders with a small grin.

"Go on ahead, sweet. You're on the Thunderclan border today." He meowed.

"Stonetail!" Paledove exclaimed.

"She's perfectly capable." He argued. Whitefang left their side before it got heated, and found herself standing before Bouncestrike and Cherrynose.

"I knew it!" Cherrynose said smugly, "I knew you two would be having kits soon!"

"That's great, Cherrynose, but I've got a border patrol to lead." Whitefang laughed, pushing past her friend gently.

"What, and you're not taking me with you?" The tortie snorted indignantly.

"Not if all you're going to do is talk about this!" Whitefang mewed.

"I need to get out of this camp! Take me away!" Cherrynose said dramatically, hurrying after Whitefang.

"I'll see you later, then!" Bouncestrike called after them, slightly put out that he'd been ignored.

"Bye, Bouncestrike!" Whitefang laughed. She and Cherrynose made their way over to the clump of warriors around the freshkill pile, with only those on the dawn patrol missing. Grayshadow, Featherfall, Rosepaw and Pinepaw head headed out on that. Lightheart was busy speaking to Rainwing and Sparrowtail about organizing a group training session for their three new apprentices, and the others were merely milling about, eating and talking. Whitefang paused, contemplating who she wanted on her patrol.

"Dawnstrike, Kestrelwind, and Stormfall!" She called, "Border patrol!" They lifted their heads and padded over to her eagerly, ready to head out into the forest on this beautiful, warm day. She watched as Stormfall shot a smug look at his sister, Fadingmist, who was stuck in camp with a sprained paw from toppling out of a tree when the branch snapped. She scowled and flicked her tail at him before limping away to the medicine cat's den. Dawnstrike bade his mate farewell before departing, and Mothwhisker, who had been called upon to participate in Icegaze's hunting patrol alongside Doestep and Addershriek, touched his nose gently before walking away. Kestrelwind exited her conversation with Blueshine in favor of the patrol as well. Once the cats were assembled, Whitefang grinned.

"We're off to patrol the Thunderclan border and renew the scent markers," She announced, "Just incase those mangy squirrel chasers have been up to their old tricks again!"

"You sound quite happy to be heading out," Kestrelwind mused, dappled cinnamon ears flicking amusedly.

"I'm sick of being told what to do. A little freedom goes a long way." Whitefang replied before turning to head out the fern tunnel.

"It's been ages since I've patrolled the Thunderclan border," Dawnstrike said with a yawn.

"Same," Stormfall agreed, glancing about. The air was still and calm, the wind from last night gone as if by magic. The trees were full of jaded leaves, and wildflowers sprung up from every patch of bright, tall grass. The mud was dry from the heat, and it cracked as paws tramped heavily over it. Birds sang hallowed melodies, and the scent of mouse was fresh and rampant.

The patrol trekked silently through the trees, each member lost in their own thoughts. Whitefang led them, and felt acutely aware of the lives she was carrying. _I'll keep you safe, of course, but I will not sacrifice my usefulness and duties. Never, ever._ She thought, moving along the dry forest floor. With short, quick steps, she reached the border. Shadowclan scents were stale, and their presence on this border felt weak. Whitefang frowned. It didn't feel right. She supposed that was because she was so used to the Riverclan border, and this path seemed foreign to her. She realized she'd been neglecting her patrol duties more than she'd previously thought.

"Alright, time to mark up." Whitefang said loudly. The patrol nodded and spread out across the border, scent-marking trees and shrubs. Whitefang had just finished up with the large, dead oak when a rustling sounded from the other side of the border. Thunderclan scent soon became overwhelming, and Whitefang had to take a step back to escape the stench.

"Patrol," She coughed out, "to me!" As the cats gathered about her from their far positions along the border, finishing their markings and hurrying to her, Whitefang peered into the underbrush on the other side. There was a twitch of a leaf here and there, a snap of a twig, a sway of a branch, and heavy breathing. Thunderclan cats weren't as sneaky as they thought.

"Spying on us, are you?" Dawnstrike drawled, lifting his chin, the ultimate portrayal of a respected, seasoned senior warrior. Whitefang admired it. The rustling paused, and soft voices began to speak to each other. Whitefang could barely make out occasional snippets of their conversation. _Did they just say we? Or was it you? And why in Starclan's name are they saying 'flank me'?_ She leaned over and murmured the phrases she'd deciphered in Dawnstrike's ear, and he nodded curtly, eyes still trained on the unmoving shrubs. Finally, a dark tabby face rose from the jaded glade.

"Spying? Me?" She purred sweetly, yellow eyes glinting mischievously in the long shadows of the ancient trees.

"Did I stutter?" Dawnstrike growled, taking a step forward into a patch of warm sunlight. It danced off of his glossy red pelt, and he shone like a ruby-encrusted statue in the golden light. Whitefang looked away, blinded momentarily by the dazzling tom. Kestrelwind smirked as the tabby she-cat on the other side squinted as well.

"Of course not," The tabby cooed, "but what, pray tell, makes your patrol think they can come so close to our border, hm? Planning something, perhaps?" Her tail tip twitched, and Whitefang watched her carefully. Suddenly, Cherrynose flicked her friend's shoulder, deep blue eyes wide.

"The bushes are moving," She hissed, voice low. Whitefang looked, and noticed that indeed, the shrubs were quivering, the movement coming closer and closer.

"It's a diversion," Whitefang muttered, glancing over to where the she-cat and Dawnstrike were locked in vicious taunts. "She's stalling." Cherrynose's mouth fell open, but she closed it quickly.

"It's a diversion! Look to the ferns," The tortie she-cat whispered to Stormfall, who, in turn, relayed the message to Kestrelwind. The dappled cinnamon-colored warrior muttered out of the side of her mouth to Dawnstrike just as the bushes ceased their perpetual forward momentum, stopping just as they crossed the border. The red tabby set his jaw in a firm line, and waited for the Thunderclan she-cat to finish her jibe.

"You see, Tawnystripe, your tactics are transparent," He grinned, baring his teeth, "Behind your shallow, feeble jeering is a fearful tabby kitten with yellow eyes, sending her comrades ahead to finish her dirty work." He paused to lick his paw, "Shadowclan, attack the trespassers." With a snarl, Whitefang and Cherrynose lept forward and into the spaces where the leaves shook imperceptibly. Cherrynose landed, and a shrieking fight ensued, the tortie warrior versus her yellow-pelted offender, a tom with daffodil colored fur and glaring amber eyes. Whitefang, too, had pounced upon a Thunderclan warrior, claws digging into the shadowy gray pelt like thorns through petals.

Kestrelwind wasn't so lucky. Her target lunged before she did, and bowled her over, ivory fangs bared as they hit and spit, a mound of furious black Thunderclan fur. Stormfall, too, was stalking a cornered warrior, his thick gray pelt fluffed up to maximum size, white ear twitching. His clover-green eyes were no longer sparkling and friendly, but had narrowed, and glittered with aggression. Whitefang pinned her assailant down easily; they were half her size anyway. The hissing gray intruder writher beneath her, and swatted at her forelegs in vain.

"Get off of me, mange-ball!" She spat angrily, green eyes burning.

"Aw, shut up, will you?' Whitefang snapped, swiping the warrior across the muzzle in a fit of annoyance, "It's your fault you're in this mess anyway." She turned away indignant enemy warrior to watch the rest of her clanmates. Cherrynose needed no help, she'd sent the yellow tom running for his Mama the second her claws raked his pelt. Dawnstrike and the brown tabby, Tawnystripe, were locked in deadly combat, claws flashing and slashing, dancing around each other like snakes. Each would land a blow and the other would return it, a vicious cycle. Beside them, Kestrelwind rode the back of a particularly burly black tom, claws dug deep into his shoulders, making him scream. Past her, Stormfall was pinned beneath a massive cream-colored tom. Whitefang's heart fluttered with fear as she watched the enemy warrior batter her former apprentice's stomach with his heavy paws. Whitefang lept off of her victim, giving her a final kick to the side before departing. She heard the gray she-cat scramble away, and smiled with satisfaction before lunging at Stormfall's attacker.

"Get off of him!" She hissed, bowling the cream-pelted tom over, tearing him off of Stormfall. The young tom wheezed and his paws scrabbled at the dirt as he tried to distance himself from the vicious tom and his furious former mentor. The Thunderclan warrior rolled beneath her onto his back, so he could face her. His face, twisted with rage and pain, seemed familiar. She gasped as she found herself staring into icy blue eyes, the color of a Leafbare sky.

"You!" She growled, tearing at his cheek with her claws.

"Whitefang!" He hissed, aiming a kick at her stomach. An image flashed in her mind, and image of her flat upon the battlefield, howling as bloodied, vaguely kit-like forms lay at her paws, never once having breathed or lived. She thought of Swanmist. With a frantic surge of instinct, she flipped Appleclaw over onto his stomach, limbs splayed out to his sides, her claws sunk deep into his spine. With a roar, he flew upwards, tossing her off of his back and into the thorny brambles of the border. She cried out as he flung himself at her, eyes wild, and at once all she could think of were the kits. She curled herself around her stomach protectively, eyes wide and fearful as she watched him coming down…down…until a rocketing gray streak thrust Appleclaw aside.

"Don't touch her!" Stormfall screeched, battering the tom's ears maliciously.

"I do what I want," Appleclaw sneered, swatting the tom sideways.

"Appleclaw," Whitefang whispered faintly, primal fear overtaking her, washing every memory of any previously learned battle move from her mind.

"You deserve this," He hissed, raising a paw, "for everything you've ever done to me."

"You can't hurt her, leave her alone!" Stormfall cried, pushing at Appleclaw's shoulder. The Thunderclan warrior easily overtook the young tom, pinning him with a single, enormous paw.

"Why should I?" He jeered.

"Because…" Stormfall choked out, "S-she's expecting k-kits." It was a sudden release, where the paw slipped down off of Stormfall's throat and slid through the streaks of blood. Appleclaw stared at Whitefang in disbelief, and she caught a glimpse of the friend she once knew, not the monster he'd become.

"You're what?" He whispered.

"No need to sound so surprised," She said dryly, the old sense of Whitefang coming back. She removed herself from his grip in his stunned silence, shooting him with a golden glare. "Did you think that, if it wasn't you, no one would love me?" She hissed, "Did you think you would be the only one, my only chance? Was it pity, or did you truly feel as though I was beautiful?" She circled him, steps soft, though the menacing stance spoke louder than ground-quaking stomps would. "Was I a charity case? An experiment? Did you ever believe, for one second, that someone else may see me for myself? Well, someone has, Appleclaw. Someone has. Falcon-" She stopped suddenly, realizing Stormfall was listening, and righted herself almost immediately, "-Timbermask has. And I _am_ expecting kits, Appleclaw, just like your own _wonderful_ mate. But that doesn't mean I can't still claw some sense into your thick skull." With that said, Whitefang ran her claws over his shoulder, shredding the previous gash. Appleclaw screamed in pain and she stalked away, head held high.

"Thunderclan, retreat!" Tawnystripe called, slithering out of Dawnstrike's grasp and back into their side of the forest. Kestrelwind fell off of the bear-like black tom as he raced after his patrol leader, and Appleclaw, too, tore away through the thorns, thundering paw steps like falling boulders, trampling through the underbrush.

"Is everyone alright?" Dawnstrike asked, surveying the patrol. Whitefang let him take the authority; she didn't feel much like a leader at the moment.

"Stormfall's pretty torn up," She mewed, inspecting the young warrior's wounds, "Just wait til your sister gets a look at you!"

"I'm alright," Kestrelwind announced, "And Cherrynose is okay too."

"Whitefang, you took quite a beating." Dawnstrike said, voice layered with concern.

"I'm perfectly fine. It's you we should be worried about." She argued, taking in the angry scratches crisscrossing Dawnstrike's red tabby pelt, stained a deeper crimson.

"Let's head home. Cherrynose, could you help Stormfall?" Whitefang asked, gesturing to her limping friend. The tortie she-cat nodded, and hurried over to assist the gray tom.

* * *

><p>Despite all she'd said, Whitefang felt battered and bruised, torn and tired. She was barely able to make it all the way home without collapsing, and she nearly screamed when the herb juices seeped into her tattered flesh. Stormfall was sleeping, passed out from multiple poppyseeds, his mother curled tightly around his despite the blistering heat in the medicine cat den. Shiverspots was treating Dawnstrike now, he'd insisted on being last. Cherrynose was relaying the tale to her kits, all of whom were listening attentively. Rosepaw and Pinepaw had been pestering their father as he waited to be treated, until Mothwhisker pulled them away. Now, the pair reenacted the battle with a few of the younger warriors. Whitefang had been interrogated by her mother until her father insisted she was fine. Paledove went outside to speak with Blueshine about the prospective kits, and Stonetail sat with Whitefang as she suffered through the attending to of her wounds. He asked no questions, and said nothing other than 'You must've fought valiantly,' as he provided the much needed comfort only a father can bring.<p>

"Get some rest," Shiverspots advised Whitefang after Dawnstrike, too, was asleep alongside Stormfall. Cherrynose was playing with her kits: she and Bouncestrike were badgers, and the other three a patrol. Kestrelwind had retired to the warrior's den, and was probably dreaming by now. Whitefang nodded to the medicine cat. She would sleep well tonight, the day had been long and arduous.

"Goodnight," She murmured, exiting the den. Timbermask met her and Stonetail as they emerged into camp. The tabby nodded to her father, who backed away to give the "couple" some privacy. Timbermask draped his tail over her shoulders, and she was too tired to protest. He guided her to the warrior's den, but they were intercepted. She knew it would happen.

"Whitefang," A groggy Stormfall mewed, blinking, could I have a word?"

"Timbermask, excuse us." She said, making it clear that she wanted privacy. The tabby frowned, but backed away. Whitefang and Stormfall walked to the edge of camp before he spoke again.

"Whitefang, about what you said, to Appleclaw…" He trailed off, looking at her curiously, a bandage over one eye. The other was clear and clover green. Trusting.

"It's true," she admitted, "The kits aren't Timbermask's. But you're sworn to secrecy, Stormfall, complete secrecy! Not even my mother knows." She added.

"Then, who _is_ the-" He began, and she hushed him.

"I don't have to tell you that." She said, a warning in her tone. He had reached the limit of her patience.

"Alright, I'll keep your secret, Whitefang." He sighed.

"You never had a choice." She replied simply, before rising to join Timbermask. The pair made their way slowly to their nest, now joint. She lay down heavily, and he curled up by her side, lapping at her pelt. As she closed her eyes, her heart felt heavier. _If things were different, maybe. If I had a different life, a different path…if I was Whitefeather, or even myself, just different, then maybe we could have something, Timbermask. If things were different. But I've made my choice._

**I needed some action, guys, and who doesn't love a good border battle wit a couple of old friends turned enemies?!**

**QOTD: What's a character you'd like to see more of in the coming chapters? Someone we haven't heard from lately? (Cupcaketail, why do I have a feeling you're going to say Lightheart?)**

**Many hugs,**

**~Bright~**


	61. Call My Name

**Back again! Remember, contest is still open and i'm awaiting more submissions!**

"I don't know how you make it seem so graceful," Cherrynose pouted, glaring at Whitefang as she padded over to the warrior's den and began weaving in new grasses and twigs.

"Make what seem graceful?" Whitefang asked, a clump of reeds between her teeth. One of those rare and powerful Greenleaf storms had blown through just two weeks ago, and Whitefang had been cleared for warrior duties only yesterday. There was so much left to do.

"Pregnancy," Cherrynose grumbled, "I looked like a ball of fat with fur, and you look like it all just comes natural to you. Heck, I _still_ look like a ball of fat with fur! A living lump! A hairy, heavy-"

"Whining, pesky lump?" Whitefang supplied, laughing. Her cheek still hurt when she laughed, and she mentally reminded herself not to reopen the wound. It had just closed up, and Shiverspots would kill her if she messed up her face again. _Appleclaw, you rat._ She thought bitterly.

"I don't whine!" Cherrynose exclaimed.

"Sure you don't," Bouncestrike rolled his eyes, coming up behind his mate, "And don't worry, even if you're a fat lump, you're my fat lump. My beautiful lump." He purred.

"Eugh," Whitefang gagged. Cherrynose smirked.

"Oh, don't you get on me for loving my mate! I've seen you and Timbermask!" The tortie mewed accusingly. Whitefang sighed, and fought the urge to make a face. It was true, she'd gotten used to accepting the tabby's public displays of affection. But she knew that when Falconshade arrived, everything would change. _Soon, he'll save me._ She reminded herself. But the day couldn't come soon enough.

"Once I lose all this baby weight, though..." Cherrynose was yammering on, "I'll be back to my old size in no time!"

"Baby weight? You mean give birth, right?" Whitefang snickered, glancing at her friend. Cherrynose was only a few weeks pregnant, and was still carrying the pounds from her last litter. If she thought birth could save her figure, she had another think coming.

"Oh, shut up!" Cherrynose huffed, "Just because you look just like you did when you were a new warrior doesn't mean-"

"Do you see this belly?" Whitefang asked incredulously, gesturing to the protruding tummy she'd begun to grow. Mid-Greenleaf was approaching far faster than she was anticipating, and she didn't feel as though she was ready.

"But...but you still seem so...Gah! Why are you so perfect?!" Cherrynose asked, pounding a paw on the camp ground.

"Perfect? I am _far_ from perfect." Whitefang mewed, surprised, and a little bit fearful. It had been so long since she'd heard…that word.

"You carry a bellyful of kits without acting as if you'd gained an ounce, you fight while pregnant and save your apprentice, you're fierce and beautiful and-" Cherrynose listed, counting off as if she'd thought about them long before.

"Stop it!" Whitefang cried anxiously. Her head was starting to spin. _I'm not any of these things, am I? _She thought.

"Oh, don't play coy, everyone can see it." Cherrynose said, as if this were common knowledge. Bouncestrike nodded with agreement. Whitefang shook it off.

"You're crazy. Now are you going to lay there like a lump, or help me rebuild this thing?" She asked irritably, jammed another twig into place and accidentally sending it through the wall.

"Ow, my eye!" A screech sounded from within.

"Sorry, Grayshadow!" Whitefang squeaked.

"Watch where you're putting those pointy sticks," the voice grumbled.

"I will," Whitefang said, suppressing a laugh. Leaning over to pick up another bundle of reeds, she realized she'd run out. "I'll be right back," She mewed quickly to her friends before hurrying away. As she reached edge of camp, inhaling the sweet smell of fresh pine needles and tree sap, she decided she would visit the Riverclan border. She felt as though she hadn't seen Falconshade in ages.

"Whitefang!" A voice called as she took her first step toward the tunnel. Turning, she found herself face to face with Hollowstar.

"Hollowstar," She mewed, surprised, dipping her head with respect.

"A favor, if you please." The tortie leader said quietly.

"Anything," Whitefang nodded, wondering what he would possibly require from her.

"I was wondering if you could speak to my nephew," Hollowstar meowed, glancing toward Lightheart, who was sitting quietly by the Freshkill pile, "He'd been seeming a little…off. I don't know why, he won't speak to me. I figured, you're his closest friend here…" The leader's green eyes bored into her pleadingly, and Whitefang realized just how much the tom cared for his brother's son.

"Of course I will," Whitefang murmured.

"Thank you," Hollowstar sighed with relief, "And, would you, perchance, be interested in going to the gathering tonight, as a favor from me? It may be the last before, well…" He gestured to her ever-growing stomach.

"That would be wonderful!" She purred excitedly, _I won't have to visit the border!_

"My pleasure. I wish you luck." Hollowstar said quietly before walking away to join his mate. Featherfall was patiently adjusting Pinepaw's twist and roll synchronization. He and his sister would be warriors in a moon, and she wasn't surprised their training had gone so quickly. With a father like Dawnstrike, it was in their blood. Whitefang forcibly pulled herself away from the sweet, sweet scents of the forest waiting for her at the end of the tunnel, and made her way over to Lightheart.

"Hey, there," She purred gently, sitting down beside him. The gold and white tom looked up at her, red-amber eyes dark and his face gloomy. Even his pelt didn't seem as bright as it once did.

"Hey," He sighed heavily.

"What's wrong, Lightheart? You're not usually this down." She asked, pressing her shoulder against his as she tried to comfort him.

"She left me," He moaned in agony, leaning over and burying his face in his paws.

"Doestep?" Whitefang nearly cried out in surprise. They'd been inseparable.

"Yes, Doestep!" Lightheart whimpered softly into his forepaws, "She left me for him! 'We just don't work anymore, Lightheart,' she said, 'Grayshadow really gets me.' "

"Aw, Lightheart…" Whitefang murmured, hating seeing her friend in such distress, "She didn't deserve you. You'll find someone better." He looked up from his crying, fresh tear tracks down his cheeks. Eyes wide and watery, he looked at Whitefang.

"Whitefang…I want to go home. I need to see my mother." He whispered, "I miss them all, Whitefang and without…without her this doesn't feel like home."

"I'll ask your uncle, alright? And we'll leave first thing tomorrow morning, no matter what he says." She laughed, pulling away. Lightheart managed a small smile before they walked by. Doestep and Grayshadow, tails entwined, giggling quietly. Lightheart's eyes lost their luster and he sunk to the ground as his previous love left him in the dust with not so much as a backwards glance. Whitefang's heart sunk, and she padded quickly over to Hollowstar.

"And?" the leader asked anxiously, standing up.

"He wants to see his mother, and his siblings. We leave at dawn." She mewed firmly.

"No, _he_ can leave at dawn, with maybe a warrior to accompany him. _You_ stay here, where you're not in danger." Hollowstar countered.

"I have to go!" Whitefang exclaimed, "I know my way around twolegplace twice as much as any other cat!"

"You are staying here." Hollowstar growled.

"Let her go!" Featherfall chimed in, copper eyes narrow as she watched her mate, "She needs this. You can't keep a free spirit cooped up in camp when she'd perfectly fine."

"But, darling, in the battle yesterday-" Hollowstar argued, but his voice was weak against the stubbornness of his normally gentle mate.

"She proved that she was a great warrior and completely capable." Featherfall finished his sentence for him, and, turning to Whitefang, she said: 'you can go. But don't take too long, we can't afford to have our valuable warriors ambling about twolegplace."

"Thank you," Whitefang said gratefully, looking from one to the other. Featherfall smiled and nodded, while Hollowstar sighed and then did the same.

"Now run along and continue the repairs," He said.

"Yes, sir." Whitefang laughed, dashing away as fast as her newfound weight would allow. She pranced over to Lightheart and purred.

"We're leaving tomorrow at dawn!" She exclaimed.

"Whitefang, thank you!" Lightheart gasped, embracing her, "Thank you."

"Now, I have to go. Keep yourself busy til then." She grinned. As she padded away trough camp, another voice caught her ear. She nearly groaned. _Who is it this time?_

"Whitefang, could I join you? I just ran out of moss for replacement nests and the medicine cat's stores." Rainwing asked, mint-green eyes wondering.

"Oh, it's you. Sure, sure." Whitefang said easily, figuring it might be good to be amicable toward her "mate's" sister.

"Thanks!" Rainwing purred. The clearing had grown considerably darker than this morning, and Whitefang suspected it would rain.

"Would be a shame if the gathering was poured on tonight," She frowned, looking up at the sky.

"So true," Rainwing agreed, "Though I'm sure Riverclan wouldn't mind. Anything to get wet." Whitefang laughed, especially loudly because she knew the silver-blue she-cat was wrong. Falconshade despised the rain.

"Well, where should we go?" Whitefang asked, "Because I need some reeds, maybe a couple of sycamore twigs, those are pretty springy, too. And you need moss," She remembered, "For storage and nests."

"Yeah, so maybe by the old sycamore? I know it's toadstool-y but it had nice moss and good twigs. I'm sure there'll be some reeds in the lily beds." Rainwing offered.

"Sounds perfect!" Whitefang smiled, setting off in the direction of the old sycamore. The pair walked in silence for a while, the mud from storms and rains past squishing beneath their paws. Occasionally it would splash up and spatter their legs, reminding Whitefang of the days where she and Swanmist would hurl mud at each other and prance through the forest like gleeful little rabbits. They would bound over the streams and marshes, leaping through the trees like squirrels and twitter to each other like birds. The sisters had been inseparable and wild, forever kits when they were together. Whitefang missed it. _Where has the time gone, Swanmist? You were too young to leave me. To leave Timbermask, and our parents. To lose your kits. I'm so sorry._ Whitefang glanced down at her own belly as she crossed over to a oath littered with red and white mushrooms. She felt a sickening twinge as she remembered her sister's kits, buried underneath snow and frozen dirt in the bitter cold of Leafbare. She still visited them, from time to time, though she'd found herself often too busy to visit her own sister's grave. She felt terrible, knowing that. _Oh, Swanmist. _

She and Rainwing wandered through the undergrowth leisurely, always at some point one commenting to the other about the beauty of it all. Soon, though, the clouds formed fully and rain began to drizzle down in small, prickling droplets. The pair hurried, then, to the old tree. Whitefang gathered fallen branches, bits and pieces sheared from the sycamore by the storm. Rainwing clawed up clumps and bundles of damp green moss, complaining about how wet it would be once they returned. Whitefang merely laughed through her mouthfuls of branches and flexible weeds, and Rainwing laughed too once she realized how ridiculous she sounded.

The walk home was anything but slow and steady. The she-cats raced each other through the forest, dodging trees and clearing shrubs with the grace and ease of loping deer. Scraps of moss and snippets of twigs were dropped and flung every which way in the joyful abandon of running home. Whitefang would push Rainwing, and gain the muddy, packed path to herself as the other gamboled through the underbrush, clumsy as a badger in a maze. Soon, though, the silver-blue streak would cut her off, and send Whitefang veering through puddles and piles of pine needles just to steer clear of the ever-flooding swamps. They would leap like frogs and jump like toads across the path just for fun; they would scramble like voles and skitter like mice to avoid the dullness of a plain run. Rainwing would chirp, Whitefang would croak, and they'd spew their collections as they snorted with laughter. The way home seemed shorter than the way out, and in a way, the pair felt more like sisters. Somehow, in some way, be it rain or be it boredom, they connected. Could it have been the way Rainwing would balance tree bark full of moss on her head like the crest of some bird? Or was it how Whitefang's paws would scrabble at the trunk of the great sycamore as she slipped and slip among the slick branches?

Either way, they returned with hearts full and minds light.

Whitefang felt like she'd found a new sister that night.

* * *

><p>"Are you ready for the gathering?" Timbermask murmured as Whitefang bade Rainwing goodnight. Unfortunately, she wasn't coming to the gathering.<p>

"Yes, but I wish it wasn't my last for so many moons." She sighed in response.

"It's your last for a reason, though." Timbermask said gently, "You don't want anything to happen, do you?"

"No, but I don't want to be bored out of my mind, either." She retorted.

"Easy, easy. I just worry about you." He frowned.

"Why can't anyone get it through their heads that I'll be fine?" she exclaimed exasperatedly, pulling away from Timbermask and hurrying up through the parade of cats gathering by the tunnel.

"Whitefang!" Timbermask called after her.

"Hide me," she muttered to Stormfall, who obliged, trying to shield the enormous white warrior.

"Is he after you again?" The gray tom asked out of the corner of his mouth, white ear twitching as it always did when he was frustrated.

"Yes," Whitefang mumbled, staring at the ground.

"Oh, Whitefang," Stormfall sighed to his former mentor.

"Don't patronize me, I've had enough of that today!" She snapped, "I just want to get to the gathering, where hopefully the only cat who doesn't treat me like some infernal kit will show his face."

"Alright, alright! Jeez, and I thought my father was snappish today!" Stormfall snickered.

"I am _so_ not as irritable as Icegaze!" Whitefang protested quietly as she watched Timbermask begin to weave his way through the crowd.

"Shadowclan, to me!" Hollowstar shouted: suddenly the wave of warriors was moving, and Timbermask was lost in the surge. Whitefang put on a burst of speed, and Stormfall panted as he struggled to keep up with her.

"For a pregnant she-cat, you sure are fast!" He wheezed, leaping over a large rock in the middle of the path.

"Why is everyone so surprised?" Whitefang groaned.

As Shadowclan arrived at the gathering, everyone was already there. Whitefang quietly slipped away from Stormfall and avoided Timbermask on her quest to find her mate. He had to be here, he just had to! As she slunk through the crowds, she caught sight of many familiar faces.

Whitefang watched from afar: Appleclaw was speaking to some Windclan warrior, sounding bored as he spoke about his life in Thunderclan:

"And Fernheart kitted. Yes, she'd my mate. Two kits, a tom and a she-cat. She barely made it, the she-cat, and Fernheart was pretty weak but she pulled through," His lips curled into a sneer of disgust, as though he was disappointed his mate had survived the difficult birth, "Both kits look just like her, gray tabbies. He has her eyes, and she has mine. Fernheart named them. I wanted to name one Sunkit, but she didn't, so that's how I ended up with children named Leafkit and Stonekit." He rolled his eyes, "All the three of them ever do is complain!"

_Sure sounds like that's all you do, too._ Whitefang thought bitterly. She stood up tall and padded purposefully past the pair, feeling ice blue eyes trailing her back. Later, she saw Fogfrost, who gushed to her about Robinfoot's kits, delivered an entire moon late. All of them were fine, all five of them! And they all sounded perfect. Se soon left him and moved along, peering through the clumps of cats to find that one, unmistakably dark ginger pelt crisscrossed with tabby stripes. Eventually she spotted him, speaking intently with an elderly with a once-beautiful pelt the color of rain-soaked tree bark, a rich chocolate brown, with the same tabby markings as the tom beside her. Her eyes were a luminous green. Whitefang made her way over to them slowly, and decided on a casual friend approach.

"Falconshade!" She called, feigning pleasant surprise. He looked up, spotted her, and smiled.

"Whitefang!" He purred loudly, "Beautiful, you made it." She stiffened; the she-cat beside him was watching them, especially her, with great interest. Glancing from her mate to his companion furtively, her golden eyes narrowed. His smile was encouraging, however, and she approached slowly.

"Falconshade," She mumbled out of the corner of her mouth, eyeing the she-cat, "Watch what you say!"

"Hush, don't worry. My mother wished to meet you, my love." The tall tabby murmured, licking her cheek. Whitefang thanked Starclan that they were on the far, outer edge of the clearing.

"So you are Whitefang," The elderly dark brown she-cat said softly, her voice a mere rasp. Her joints were gnarled and twisted with age, and she had great difficulty standing up to greet the white warrior. "My son has told me much about you, and I decided it would be a fault in my life not to have met the one he loves before I leave." Her gaze was soft and welcoming, if not a little sad, as it rested upon Whitefang.

"I'm pleased to meet you, um," Whitefang, realizing she had neglected to learn her name, glanced anxiously at her mate for help. The she-cat noticed and laughed, a light noise much like the soft hissing of a snake mixed with the sweet Greenleaf breeze rustling the leaves of an oak. It was lovely.

"My name is Briarheart, sweet one. And you, you're Whitefang. The lovely, charming, wonderful Whitefang I've heard so much about. Now, let's take a look at you." The she-cat looked Whitefang up and down, nodding with approval, "You certainly are beautiful, he described you perfectly. Strong, too. How far along are you, dearest?" Whitefang shifted in her seat, uncomfortable with scrutiny and kindness.

"A little less than a moon," Whitefang said, abashed. She buried herself in Falconshade's thick pelt, feeling the need to smell him, touch him, anything. He wrapped his tail about her, and his mother smiled.

"You'll be wanting to eat more, soon, and though I doubt you tire easily, you will get a bit slower. Try not to wear yourself out in the last week or so, dear, because kitting is hard. One of the hardest times in your life, one of the most painful, is kitting. Truly, you may doubt me, but trust me, I know." She laughed again, only to stop as she coughed. "You're a tough one," she continued once the hacking fit had ceased, "And I know you'll be wonderful."

"Thank you," Whitefang said sincerely.

"Now, you two run along. The leaders are about to speak." Briarheart shooed the pair away good-naturedly, but not before Whitefang padded over and embraced her.

"It was lovely meeting you," She called.

"And you too, my dear." Briarheart rasped.

"She needed to meet you," Falconshade whispered as Shimmerstar stepped forward, her pelt gleaming. She, too, seemed to be expecting kits. And yet the dark silver leader made it look like nothing. Her fiery amber eyes pierced the crowd, and Whitefang and Falconshade quickly made to look like they were just friends.

"Riverclan has been doing well this past moon," she announced, "The fish are swimming, the birds calling, and our bellies are full. We welcome one new warrior, Tansyfoot," Whitefang cheered the new warrior's name, and spotted a ginger pelted she-cat sitting up proudly a few cats away. The she-cat turned toward them, and Falconshade gave her an encouraging nod.

"She's my brother's kit," He whispered, and Whitefang made sure to cheer even louder.

"And we also welcome four new apprentices! Smokepaw, Talonpaw, Egretpaw, and Fallowpaw!" Shimmerstar called once the cheering had ceased. It struck up again, heartier as more names were shouted to the stars.

"Those are my best friend's kits," Falconshade purred proudly, "A bunch of energetic rascals!" Whitefang laughed.

"Someday, our kits names will be called from up there," She sighed.

"And I'll cheer the loudest of them all!" Falconshade exclaimed. Shimmerstar had no more news to report, and slunk back to her place on the branch. Whitefang straightened; Hollowstar was the next to go.

"Shadowclan has had a bountiful few moons, with three new apprentices and three litters of kits to arrive soon!" He purred, "Please welcome Sorrelpaw, Aspenpaw, and Honeypaw!"

"Those are my best friend's kits!" Whitefang shouted over the roaring crowd. Falconshade laughed and called their names with might, pressing closer to Whitefang. Thunderclan and Windclan went as well, but they paid those leaders little attention. For now, their eyes were only for each other.

"I love you. And I miss you. Will you ever come to Shadowclan? With me?" Whitefang pleaded, nuzzling him.

"I need to spend my mother's final days by her ide. She needed to see you, Whitefang; her time is limited here. But I promise, as soon as she's passed peacefully and my brother is well, I will come to you." Falconshade murmured, running his muzzle along her cheek.

"I'd wait for you forever," Whitefang said, ignoring the guilty pangs in her heart.

"And I you." Falconshade replied.

"Shadowclan!" Whitefang heard her father call.

"I'll see you tomorrow, if I'm home in time." She sighed.

"Home in time?" Falconshade questioned.

"I'll tell you all about it. I love you!" she called, padding away.

"I love you," He purred. Whitefang's heart, per usual, broke a little as she parted from her mate. But it lightened at the thought of him coming to her. Shadowclan would be his home, she was sure of it.

**Are you truly sure, Whitefang? This chapter was mostly dialogue, sorry, but I tried to include as many neglected characters as I could. I would enjoy hearing your opinions on Lightheart, Rainwing, and Briarheart!**

**QOTD: What do you think will happen in twolegplace? _And_ are you going to enter the contest?**

**The contest is still open, guys and girls! Here are the details:**

**Write a one-shot about a minor character in Promise, The Great Divide, or WCC. You could also include one of your own OC's in your one-shot as a main character! The one-shot should be about their backstory, which means an event or time in their life that made them who they are. Remember: it has to be a minor character! You could choose Luka, but not Mapleshade. You could choose Hollowstar, but not Whitefang. Etc. Your entry is due April 20th, but you can submit it earlier. PM me when you finish your one-shot and post it, or, if you don't have an account, write it and send it in to me at my contest email: brighteyesauthor(at symbol)gmail. com (Ignore the awkward spaces, and use the actual at symbol. Fanfic doesn't like us writing out emails in our stories!)**

**Adieu (I will be updating soon, I swear, I just have to get the next WCC up)!**

**~Bright~**


	62. It Has Begun

**Holyyyyyyy shiteeeeee like I haven't been on in eons. So sorry! Will try to update a little more regularly, I've had these job interviews and essays and writing contests and all that jazz. **

**On to the good stufff**

"Are you ready?" The whisper came early in the morning: the sun hadn't even broken the tree line, and a thin mist coated the ground. Lightheart blinked, and his red-amber eyes adjusted to the lack of light.

"Is it time?" He replied, voice husky from sleep. Whitefang nodded, watching him. The gold and white tom rose from his nest and gently shook the sleep from his pelt. They tiptoed through the crowded nests of snoozing cats, thinking it better not to wake anyone and alert them of their absence. Whitefang had decided it would be best not to tell anyone: the only cats who knew of this venture were Hollowstar, Stonetail, and Featherfall. And Stonetail only knew because she'd agreed to let him know, reluctantly, after giving in to Hollowstar's request. Her father was, after all, the deputy. Not one of them would see them off. Secrecy was best.

The pair slunk through the den quietly, with deft paws and shallow breaths. The morning was dim and damp, but not silent. The deep, sleeping sounds of warriors and apprentices alike, as well as the soft cooing of mourning doves and the occasional rustle of some waking woodland creature all drifted through the drowsy air.

"Are you really ready for this?" He asked, turning to her suddenly, "I mean, you don't have to come. I-I can make it on my own." Whitefang shook her head defiantly.

"Of course I'm ready! Let's go now. Someone's got to make sure you come home. This _is_ your home, y'know." Whitefang insisted, "Now, go on. Eat something before we go."

"You really don't need to do this," Lightheart pressed, refusing to look at the freshkill pile. Whitefang heard his stomach rumble.

"I really do." She argued, "Now go eat."

"Whitefang, Timbermask wouldn't want you to go, not like this-" Whitefang glared at him as he said it, and he stopped short.

"Timbermask is not the final word in _anything_ I do, let alone this! You are my friend, and I will see you to your family. I am my own cat, and I can decide where I go and who I'm with. Timbermask does not decide these things, and neither do you! Now eat something before I shove it down your throat." She growled, stalking over to the freshkill pile. Behind her, Lightheart smiled.

"I should've known." He purred as she dug viciously into a large mouse.

"Known what?" She spat.

"That I could never convince you, not in a million moons." He mused, sitting beside her.

"Well, yes, you should've known better. Timbermask-" She began, only to be cut off.

"Timbermask what?" A voice growled.

"What're you doing up?" Whitefang asked furiously, spinning around to face her 'mate'.

"Where are you going? What do you think you're doing?" Timbermask hissed, padding angrily closer to the pair.

"This is none of your concern," Whitefang said icily, still miffed.

"Of course it's my concern!" Timbermask said, voice low and hard, "When my mate is-"

"Stop it! You don't control me!" Whitefang snarled.

"What's all the yelling about?" A sleepy sounding voice came from the direction of the apprentice's den. Rosepaw stumbled out, her bright ginger pelt mussed and tangled from a night of rough sleep.

"Nothing, go back to your nest." Whitefang mewed to her. Then, turning to Timbermask: "And you, I don't have to tell you where I'm going, what I'm doing, or anything!"

"You're leaving?" Rosepaw gasped excitedly, "Oh, to where?"

"Rosepaw, I said go back to sleep." Whitefang snapped. Lightheart cleared his throat and entered the fray.

"Rosepaw, head back to sleep. Timbermask, let Whitefang do what she wants." He mewed steadily, looking the tom in the eyes.

"I am not going back! You three are going on an adventure without me!" Rosepaw huffed, "I'll be a warrior soon, I can handle anything!"

"No, you can't." Whitefang retorted.

"It's not what Whitefang wants to do, it's what she needs to do. I will not lose my kits twice!" Timbermask said quietly. A stunned silence passed over the four of them. Whitefang glared at him, knowing on some level that he was right, but she refused to acknowledge it. These kits were not his. He had no right to say anything like that. Lightheart and Rosepaw merely stared, dumbfounded, at the tom. Timbermask locked gazes with Whitefang, his emerald eyes firm and just. She tore her own golden gaze away, and muttered something unintelligible.

"What was that?" Timbermask asked softly.

"I said, we're going to twolegplace. There, are you happy? Because you're still not invited." She hissed, grinding her paws into the dirt to keep them from springing at his throat. _Impertinent tom…_

"Wherever you go, I will follow." Timbermask said insistently.

"I'm coming too! I've never been to twolegplace before!" Rosepaw grinned.

"No!" All three of the warriors said in unison. Rosepaw glanced at each of them, and shiftily glanced at the ground.

"Fine," She mewed, voice demure, "I'll go back to sleep."

"And don't tell anyone anything, got it?" Timbermask growled.

"Alright," Rosepaw sighed heavily before dramatically trudging back to the apprentice's den. Whitefang let out a long breath of relief, and slumped onto the ground. Lightheart glanced at her, and slid over a fat squirrel. She accepted it gratefully, and watched Timbermask as she ate. The pesky tom showed no signs of leaving.

"This isn't your journey, or your problem." She mewed, swiping her tongue over her lips as she finished.

"Does it look like I care?" He retorted, "You shouldn't even be doing this."

"Does it look like I care?" She mimicked.

"Guys…" Lightheart muttered, "This was supposed to be a quiet trip…" Whitefang and Timbermask glared at each other, but nodded. "Could we go?"

"Alright, let's go." Whitefang sighed, getting up. Timbermask flicked his tail and followed them out of camp.

"So this is what the sunrise over the lake looks like. I've never seen it before. Or maybe I did, but I was too asleep to care." Lightheart mewed as they reached the shoreline. Brilliant, dusky colors lit up the sky, from soft golds to pale lilacs and dusty yellows stretching out across the territories, speckled with wispy clouds. Whitefang sighed.

"It is beautiful, isn't it?" Whitefang purred, forgetting her earlier irritation with both toms, pausing to enjoy the break of dawn.

"Gorgeous," Timbermask agreed, staring out over the rippling water. Colors muddled together on the shimmering surface, pale and bright like watercolors splashes along a fresh canvas.

"We should keep going, though, if we want to make it back here at a decent hour." Whitefang pointed out, tearing her friends away from the lake. The padded on in awkward silence, tracing the well-known paths with their paws, each wary and anxious to set foot somewhere different. Whitefang knew this most of all: the unknown was terrifying. They crossed trails with others, and were soon over the border. Whitefang sniffed the air: though it had been many, many, many moons ago and the trail left by her, and previously the three of them, was long gone, she remembered it perfectly. Everything was fresh in her mind: the first time, following Darkclaw as he followed his son, and the second, purely strung together from memory. She remembered thinking of everything the second time, of how she wished her life was different. How she wished her sister was there, her friend was beside her, her mother loved her, Darkclaw not dying. She had, many times before, felt the stages of grief, but they had never clutched her as strongly as then. Rage, and a thirst for vengeance had surged through her veins. She had hated Paledove for her cruelty, and Stonetail for taking the monster back into his nest with love. She had hated Barkpaw for leaving, and she had hated Darkclaw for lying, and now dying without being able to face his spun tales of bravery for his cowardly son. She had hated Goldenfrost for dying and leaving Stonetail alone; she had hated her clanmates for being oblivious and uncaring. She had hated her friends for being far away, and she had hated Swanmist for leaving her. She had simply _despised_ her killer: the tom with the eyes the blue of a Greenleaf sky with no clouds. It fueled her; it was the only reason she kept going.

And yet now, she had a mother and father who adored her. She had clanmates who cared for her as deeply as she did for them now, and friends who stood by her side through it all, and some who didn't. She had a loving mate, and a bellyful of kits. Kits. She had love, and she was not alone. That anger and pain had faded, like a pebble once stuck in her paw that had been smoothed over, worn down overtime. It would always be there, but the hurt was no longer keen and sharp, more of a dull, forgotten ache. She remembered, too, that through the haze of anger and pain, she had fostered a small spark of hope.

Hope that Barkpaw would be just as she remembered, sweet and kind and innocent. A friend. How wrong she had been, small and naïve. Foolish. Barkpaw, Leo, Alpha, whatever the hell he called himself was no more than a fraud.

She had hoped that Stonetail would realize what a terror Paledove was. He hadn't, but she had. Her mother had begged for forgiveness without words, and Whitefang had accepted her. The love she felt now, from both of them, was more than she had ever known. That hope had rung true and strong, she had parents. Two parents.

She had hoped for her friends to comfort her and be there forever. They were there. Some left, and would never return, but the rest were pure and sweet as fresh honey. She would never survive without them.

She had hoped to see Swanmist again. She had hoped to avenge her sister. She had hoped, no matter how far against the warrior code she had to travel, that she would be able to avenge her sister. This had not happened, but something even more beautiful had emerged from it, amidst all the rest. Everything else was like background noise when one is trying to find the voice of one bird amongst the chorus. She had found him, but he had given her more than she'd ever dreamed was possible.

The group, after long hours of walking, reached the point where the forest met twolegplace. A wide thunderpath separated them from their goal, and monsters whizzed past, spewing their stinking smog and roaring like lions. Whitefang shivered, as did Timbermask, but Lightheart stared them down.

"When I say run, we run. Got it?" He asked, breaking the silence.

"Got it," Timbermask gulped. His vulnerability hit Whitefang like a brick, and she wondered how he would survive twolegplace, and the Sanctum. She wondered whether they would have to go back there.

"Whitefang?" Lightheart pressed, eyes focused on her. She realized she hadn't answered him.

"Oh, yes. When you say run. I've got it." She mewed, trying to sound brave for Timbermask. Against her better judgment, she stayed close to him, and rested her tail on his lower back. He shuddered, but did not shy away. Whitefang stared at the thunderpath, so close to where they had been. It was as if the scene had occurred yesterday. If Whitefang imagined hard enough, she could smell each of them on the Greenleaf air, see their figures in the setting sun, each pelt bristling and flattened in the breeze. Her, Darkclaw, and Barkpaw. She shook her head. _I will not think of them now. Lightheart needs me, and so does Timbermask. _Focused now, she tensed her muscles.

"Run!" Lightheart yowled, and the trio darted across the thunderpath, the hard black surface alien against their pads, and the acrid smell enveloping them. A sudden roar startled her, and she sprinted to the other side as if her life depended on it. Panting, Whitefang collapsed on the little patch of grass. Timbermask and Lightheart stood, wheezing, beside her. As they rested for a brief moment, a shriek sounded from the thunderpath. Looking up, Whitefang spotted a ginger-furred shape frozen to the asphalt. Monsters raced at it, and it ducked, still glued to the ground.

"That's Rosepaw!" Whitefang yelped. As quick as lightning, Lightheart was on the thunderpath. His white paws pounded the pavement, dashing toward the apprentice. Whitefang and Timbermask watched with bated breath, helpless. The gold and white warrior shoved Rosepaw out of the way just as another enormous green monster hurtled toward them, and sent the pair tumbling away down the slope at the edge of the thunderpath just a few tail lengths away.

"Lightheart!" Timbermask called, dashing over to where the two cats had fallen, "Rosepaw!"

"What is she doing here?" Whitefang whispered anxiously, running up beside the tabby tom.

"Following us, I presume." He replied dryly, "Rosepaw! Lightheart! Are you two okay?"

"We're fine, just a little rattled!" Lightheart's voice rose from the shallow ravine.

"No one's hurt?" Whitefang called down.

"No," Lightheart mewed, "But _someone's_ got a lot of explaining to do."

"That's me," Rosepaw said meekly.

"Oh, we know it's you!" Whitefang snapped as she watched the two cats stagger up the slope, "You could've been killed! Even worse, you both could've been killed! What are you doing here, Rosepaw? We told you to stay home!" The ginger-furred tabby looked up at Whitefang resentfully as she climbed through the crumbling dirt and twoleg trash. Shaking out her pelt, the apprentice reached the top and pulled her savior up beside her.

"I hate being left out," She mumbled.

"So?" Timbermask growled.

"So I followed you, alright? It sounded like an adventure. And now I'm here!" She grinned triumphantly; only to have the smile fall of her face when she realized the other three were solemn.

"Rosepaw, there's a reason we didn't want you to come…" Lightheart said gently.

"And this is precisely the reason! You don't listen, and this place is dangerous! You're going back home!" Whitefang hissed angrily.

"Um…about that…" Lightheart muttered, "We can't exactly send her back."

"And why not?" Whitefang asked irritably.

"She'd get lost. Or hurt. And it's not like one of us can go back with her. You wouldn't leave. Timbermask won't leave you. She has to stay." Lightheart sighed.

"Rosepaw you are in so much trouble…" Timbermask shook his head.

"That's the truth," Whitefang snapped. Then, seeing the apprentice's face fall, she sighed. "Oh, Rosepaw. Don't look so down. We're mad because we care about what happens to you." She padded over to lick the she-cat's ear, which she did. Rosepaw smiled slightly.

"So, will this be fun?" She asked eagerly.

"Maybe. But only if you listen to what we say! It's still dangerous out here." Whitefang admonished.

"Ok! Where do we start?" the bouncy apprentice asked, bristling with anticipation. Despite everything, Timbermask laughed.

"Lightheart, to Bark Street." Whitefang said, regaining her air of authority. He nodded, tail twitching eagerly.

"I can't wait to see them," He murmured as Whitefang padded dup to walk beside him.

"I know." She purred. Timbermask followed them, Rosepaw at his side. As they entered town, the she-cat stared around at everything in pure amazement.

"Whoa," She whispered. It was still early, and therefore empty, in twolegplace. Whitefang remembered the way, but allowed Lightheart to take the lead. They crossed different, smaller thunderpaths and followed tall, metal trees with strange patterns that Lightheart seemed to be able to read on them. Distant barking dogs could be heard, and send shivers up the spines of every warrior besides Lightheart, who had grown up on these streets with these creatures. Finally, they reached the place. Bark Street. The name gave Whitefang bad memories, and she hated to think of the tom that was named for it. The place was a blue twoleg den. It was small and cozy looking, compared to the rest of the dens on that strip of the thunderpath. Just as Whitefang remembered, it had a pretty garden in full bloom, with many flowers, neat little shrubs, and small trees beside tall hedges. The door was yellow. She remembered Yara had said that weird thing was a door. There was a small flap in the door, large enough for a cat but too small for much else. The flap was heavy, but the right weight for a cat. She remembered this as well. This was the cat door. Lightheart went through first, and Whitefang followed. Rosepaw scrambled in after her, and Timbermask was the last wary traveler to enter the den.

"Addie, Yara, Mama!" Lightheart called, his voice echoing through the den. Everything was as Whitefang remembered: the 'staircase', the 'carpets', the 'furniture'. All in the same spot, all clean and neat. It felt as though she'd never left. A light pitter-patter on the stairs caught her attention, and she knew someone was coming down to greet them. A familiar golden tabby was standing on the staircase: her amber eyes were just as curious as the first time they'd met.

"Yara," Whitefang said warmly, "You've grown." It was true. From skinny, scrappy golden tabby to lithe, well-muscled she-cat, Yara had grown up. Lightheart had noticed this too.

"Yara," He purred, running forward to his sister.

"Dolan!" She laughed, embracing her brother as he reached her, "You're so…wild, now. Just like her. Hello, Whitefang!" Whitefang touched noses with the golden she-cat, and turned to the other two, awkwardly waiting to be introduced.

"Yara, this is," She gulped, "my mate, Timbermask. And this is Rosepaw, the stowaway." Yara eyes both of them before nodding to each.

"Pleasure to meet you," Timbermask mewed with a dip of his head. Rosepaw grinned.

"Wow! So you're Lightheart's sister? You're really pretty." The ginger apprentice said cheerfully. Yara smiled.

"Thank you. Dolan, you're Lightheart now?" Yara inquired.

"Yes. But I'll always be Dolan to you." He laughed, "Where's Sofia? And Addie?" Yara scowled.

"What's wrong?" Whitefang asked, sensing something was amiss.

"Sofia is fine, the kits are fine. Pesky, but fine. But Addie is…is in the Sanctum." Yara said slowly.

"WHAT?!" Lightheart exploded, "Why there? What is she doing there? Whose purdah? Why haven't you gotten her out?" He hissed furiously. Yara met his angry gaze evenly, and bared her teeth.

"Won't you shut up? I was about to tell you!" She snapped.

"There's the Yara I remember." Whitefang said dryly.

"Me too," Lightheart growled, "So?"

"Honestly, I was getting to it!" Yara exclaimed, "They took her away. Six of them. I tried to stop them, but," She turned her head, revealing a raw, twisting scar from the back of her right ear that snaked across the other half of her face, and down to her shoulder.

"Yara," Whitefang breathed, "Great Starclan…"

"It just missed your eye," Lightheart murmured, looking at her with new eyes, "Yara, I'm so sorry…"

"Oh, shut up. I know you are," she smiled wryly, "But I gathered up as many cats as I could, and we couldn't get her. No one wanted to join me. The Sanctum…it's gotten worse. More dangerous. More fights, more brawls, more deaths, more grudges. Dolan…we need her back."

"We'll get her back," Lightheart sighed.

"Um, Lightheart, we need to get back to Shadowclan. I don't think we can-" Timbermask said.

"Of course we can! What if it was Rainwing, huh? We'll help you, Yara." Whitefang cut in firmly.

"Cool!" Rosepaw grinned.

"Could we see Sofia?" Lightheart asked.

"Yeah, she's right up there." Yara gestured up the stairs. The five of them climbed the tall, dark staircase and entered the same dim room Whitefang remembered. But this time, it was not at all silent.

"Yara!" A chorus of voices squeaked. A black tom emerged from the shadows, launching himself at his sister. He was about as large as the new apprentices in Shadowclan. A laugh rang out from the back of the room, where a pale golden she-cat stood. Her golden-amber eyes sparkled when she caught sight of her son.

"Dolan," Sofia purred, walking up to her kit and licking his ears, "You've come home."

"Only for a little while. I wanted to see you, all of you." He smiled, "They've certainly gotten big." He gestured to the group of four young cats tussling with Yara. A dark tortie she-cat and tom were on her flank, while a mottled gold and brown she-cat batted at her tail. The black tom was sitting on her shoulder, playfully gnawing on one golden tabby ear. Yara was growling teasingly.

"Yes, yes they've grown so much. So, you-you got to him in time?" Sofia asked, golden-amber eyes searching her son's face. He nodded solemnly.

"I did. Darkclaw…he told me what it meant to be a warrior. He said he loved all of us, especially you. He desperately wanted to meet those four, y'know. He wanted to live." Sofia choked back a sob as she listened to him, and looked to the ceiling as if she could see through it to the hidden stars.

"Oh, my love…how I wish you could've met them." She murmured. Then, turning to Whitefang: "I haven't introduced them to you, have I? Kits!" She called pleasantly. The four adventurous young cats, probably the age of apprentices, hurried to her.

"Yes, mama?" The black tom mewed sweetly.

"Kits, this is Whitefang, an old friend from the forest. Whitefang, this is Shadow" the black tom mewed a welcome, "Tamerlan," the mottled brown and gold she-cat grinned.

"Call me Tammy," She purred.

"And these two are Casper and Evin." Sofia finished, nudging the two torties. Whitefang nodded cordially.

"And Sofia, kits, this is my mate, Timbermask, and my friend Rosepaw." Timbermask and Rosepaw mewed short welcomes.

"Very nice to meet you all," Sofia said graciously, "Welcome to our nest. I'm sorry, it isn't much, but-"

"It's wonderful," Timbermask cut in, "No need to apologize."

"Mother, they're going to help us get Addie back home," Yara purred.

"Thank you!" Sofia gasped in surprise, "Thank you, thank you so much! My daughter, oh!"

"We'll get her back," Whitefang confirmed, "I promise you."

"Her promises are golden, mother." Lightheart added. Whitefang nearly cringed: not all were golden. She pushed it from her mind, though.

"We should get going if we want to make it home by dawn," Timbermask pointed out.

"We want to come!" Shadow said eagerly.

"Sorry, kits, this is a warrior's job!" Rosepaw replied proudly. Shadow pouted, and Sofia swept him up with her tail.

"Come now, dear, when you're older you can do whatever you please." She cooed, soothing her feisty little tom.

"I'm coming too," Yara said, and no cat made any move to tell her otherwise. She had proven herself once already.

"It was good to see you, mama. I love you." Lightheart purred, nuzzling Sofia. She smiled, tears in her eyes.

"I miss you already. I will always miss you." The pale golden queen sighed.

"I'll visit, I swear it." Lightheart assured her. Then, leaning down to see his little siblings: "And I'll visit you guys, too. Just remember: I met our father. He was a great tom, an amazing warrior, and an even better father. It's your job to make him proud, kits." They all nodded solemnly, touching noses with their big, strong sibling. Pulling away, Lightheart turned to his Shadowclan friends, joined by his sister.

"Time to go." Whitefang announced.

* * *

><p>"So this is the Sanctum." Timbermask said, voice dripping with disgust as he observed the alley. They began walking through the darkened corridor, and almost instantly Whitefang felt claustrophobic. The tall walls of adjacent buildings towered over her, their brick sides threatening to shut out the pale eggshell-blue sky's light. Shadows cloaked their pelts as the group made their way further into the menacing unknown, and with every step Whitefang felt the tension in the air rise. Beside her, Lightheart's muscles tightened, as they had many, many moons before. The space grew narrower, and soon their pelts were pressed together.<p>

"Single file now, everyone. Yara, bring up the back." Lightheart called, taking the lead. They came to a small space at the end of the alley, no larger than the warrior's den and just as dark. A building's wall stood ahead of them, with a tiny gap in the wooden planks that tried in vain to cover a gaping hole. The opening was just big enough for a cat. Lightheart pushed even further ahead of her, golden and white pelt glowing as the sun's beams crept through the slender space between the two roofs. Looking over her shoulder, she saw Rosepaw watching him intently. The ginger she-cat averted her gaze as soon as Whitefang caught her, but she wasn't surprised. Lightheart was handsome.

"I'll go first. Stay by me, all of you. Even you, Yara!" the leading tom called back.

"Fine," Yara replied, though her tone was amused. Whitefang watched as the warrior squeezed through the hole and disappeared into the blackness that awaited her. Taking a deep breath and channeling her brave inner Shadowclan warrior, Whitefang crept in after him.

It was far lighter inside the building than anyone expected it to be, but that was how she remembered it. It could be attributed, of course, to the multitude of cracks and gaps in the walls and ceiling. Sunlight streamed through, illuminating the bustling scene. Whitefang almost wished it were dark. The scene was not stunning.

Cats tussled on the ground, and not in a friendly way. They were snarling, their moves violent and sloppy. She winced as a pair rolled past her paws: she could smell the grime that surrounded them, and the blood in the air. Puddles of unknown liquid pooled around her, and she daintily lifted her paws to avoid them. Almost every cat she saw was emaciated or scarred, with some kind of bitter, twisted look. Eyes were dark and dull, some clouded over and other sharp and keen. She herself gained many strange looks. And she did not like what she was attracting. Grimy toms crept forth, eyes alight with something strong and dangerous. She-cats stayed to the side. The she-cats stayed back, mouths and faces contorted into ugly grimaces, those brought on by jealousy and spite. They sat in groups, clustered together. Whitefang shuddered as she remembered everything about the Sanctum, and wished she wasn't listening to Lightheart quietly explain the system of purdahs to Timbermask and Rosepaw. She felt the little ones in her belly squirm as though they too sensed the danger.

"The gathering of cats in the common area is larger than before," She heard him mutter.

"And what does that mean?" She asked, "Is there something you haven't told me?" Lightheart and Yara nodded grimly.

"Every so often, when there's a large new crop of she-cats, like kits who've reached adulthood, there's a battle of the purdahs, a basically a fight where lust rules all. It's where most of the deaths are centered in the Sanctum: both toms and she-cats. It's disgusting, and we've stepped right into it." He growled.

"Well, there's only one thing to do," Whitefang drew herself up to her full height and looked hi dead in the eyes, "We're going to fight."

"In this? Are you insane?" Yara hissed.

"She's right," Timbermask snapped at the golden tabby, "There's only one way. We have to win Addie. How long ago did they take her? She could be in this crop."

"A week ago," Yara said uncertainly, wary of the light in the tabby tom's eyes. Whitefang knew that light: Timbermask had a plan. She only hoped it was the same as hers.

"Then she's in this crop for sure!" Lightheart exclaimed.

"So," Timbermask began, "Lightheart, or, ah, Dolan, and I will make new names. We'll fight for she-cats for our 'purdahs' and we'll win Addie."

"And we'll pretend to be in their purdahs," Whitefang added, looking at Rosepaw and Yara, "We'll make new names. Yara, you'll have to roll in something, disguise yourself."

"We can't all be in their purdahs," Yara protested, "One of us will have to go into the crop and find Addie. Tell her what's going on."

"That's dangerous. We'll have to win them too, and that's a risk," Timbermask scowled.

"It's worth the risk. You're warriors! Half of the toms around here can't even throw a decent forepaw, and you've had a lifetime of practice." Yara hissed irritably.

"I'll warn Addie!" Rosepaw offered, "I volunteer!"

"Never! Your mother would kill me," Whitefang snapped, "I'm going in to find Addie."

"I'm her sister, I'll go." Yara said firmly.

"Whitefang, you can't go in there! Starclan only knows what they do to the crop she-cats. You're expecting kits, there is no way I'm letting you find Addie." Timbermask growled.

"You have no right to tell me what I can and can't do," Whitefang snarled.

"Yara, I'm not losing another sister. And besides, Rosepaw is nearly a warrior. She's had more training than almost every cat here, and she can definitely handle herself." Lightheart said authoritatively.

"Never! Mothwhisker will murder all of us if she doesn't come back. And Starclan only knows what Dawnstrike will do! She has a whole life to live!" Whitefang argued.

"I'm going in, and I'll be Sienna. What does Addie look like?" Rosepaw asked, ignoring Whitefang and Yara as they objected.

"She's pale brown with white paws and she has Yara's amber eyes. She's very quiet. Got it?" Lightheart mewed, his gaze anxious yet hopeful as it rested on Rosepaw. She nodded in affirmation after glancing at Yara's eyes.

"Fight for me," She told Lightheart before she turned away. The golden and white furred tom stared at her, his red-amber eyes shining, as if he was seeing the apprentice for the first time.

"With all my heart," He replied. The ginger tabby darted off, and soon disappeared into the crowd.

"We need new names, and Yara needs to be covered in dirt." Whitefang said after a moment.

"Timbermask, you're Arrow. I'll be Ace, because, y'know, I am pretty cool," Lightheart joked, and Whitefang cracked a smile.

"I'll be Frost, and Yara…you can be Quinn. There, it's all settled. And Yara, you'll be in Timbermask's purdah. It would be strange if you were with your brother." Whitefang decided.

"Good luck," Yara mewed to Whitefang and Lightheart before she went off to smother herself in dirt and grime.

"See you on the other side," Lightheart grinned.

"I love you. You know that, right?" Timbermask murmured to Whitefang before he left with Yara. His deep emerald yes bore into hers.

"I know," Whitefang breathed, "Be safe, ok?" It was clear that was not the reply he was looking for, but the tabby took it in stride.

"You too. I do love you, Whitefang. And…and I love them too. If we get out of this, I promise I'll be the best father." Timbermask left her with that, turning away to follow an especially grimy Yara into the ring of purdahs. Whitefang glanced at Lightheart, who straightened up and jutted out his chin, adopting a menacing, primitive look.

"Am I an alleycat yet?" He grunted, gnashing his fangs, accentuating his new under bite. Whitefang snorted.

"Alright, _Ace_, we have work to do." She said, contorting her own voice into a sexy, husky version of it's former self, letting her eyelids droop, half-closed.

"Your attempt at being seductive, _Frost_, could use a bit of work." Lightheart smirked, when looked more like a grimace with his new look.

"And if I were you, _Ace_, I would drop the under bite." She shot back, making him laugh. The pair made their way to the ring, settling their two-cat purdah in between the larger ones. Glancing around, Whitefang spotted a familiar crimson pelt writhing among those of the greatest purdah at the head of the circle. Beside it was him. She'd sworn she'd never see him again, but there he was. At his starting yowl, the crop of she-cats was herded into the center of the circle. Whitefang narrowed her eyes.

The games had begun.

**Is the anticipation there yet? The excitement? I had so much fun writing this chapter...**

**They're only going to be in twolegplace for one more chapter guys, then I'll squeeze in some Falconshade :3**

**QOTD: With the ensuing battle for Addie and Sienna *cough* Rosepaw *cough*, will they be won? Will Lightheart and Timbermask survive the imminent confrontation of the purdah leaders? Will Whitefang face Barkpaw? Because, clearly, he's there. And what's going on with Rosepaw and Lightheart? So many questions!**

****All will be answered next chapter...****

**Also, the contest is still on: looking forward to seeing more submissions! Due date is April 20th!**

**Au Revoir!  
><strong>

**~Bright**


	63. You Don't Belong Here

**Hey!**

Whitefang padded alongside Lightheart, her belly swinging. She hadn't realized how large she'd gotten. Surveying the crowd, she kept her eyes from _him_, though it was difficult. He, after all, was the leader of this sorry band.

"Are you alright?" Lightheart murmured in her ear, in the raging din of the ring she could barely hear him.

"Keep your eyes on the prize, Ace." She muttered in response. A quick nod, and he had turned back around. There was thick, hot tension in the air: sweaty bodies merged and jostled each other for prime positions, and she-cats already in purdahs watched the new ones spitefully. Everywhere, all around her, Whitefang smelled the lust, the want. It emanated from each corner of the building like the stench of something rotten. _Must be their morals._ She decided, returning her gaze to the inner circle. She watched as a burly, unkempt she-cat stepped forward. No cat paid her much attention, so Whitefang figured she must not belong to anyone. _Either barren or unwanted, no doubt. The poor thing._ The Sanctum she-cat reached a paw into the cluster of nervous she-cats and they all shied away, one unlucky calico in the dirty cat's grasp. Her green eyes wide and frightened, the calico was pushed to the center, all the others backing away.

"Begin!" She heard Barkpaw roar. All of a sudden, mangy toms were racing toward the inner circle. The first one there, a ragged gray creature with fangs as long and hooked as claws, picked her up by the scuff and began to drag her back to his purdah. Others converged on him, and wild shrieking and screeching ensued.

"That's Snake," Lightheart whispered to Whitefang, "The gray one with the teeth like that. He's the one who stole Addie the first time. Nasty fellow. Smells like sardines and trash. Makes sense, though, he is trash." Whitefang snickered, but her eyes were glued to the fight. The calico was desperately trying to claw an escape, but toms kept dragging her back. Blood sprayed from fresh wounds and reopened scars: Whitefang felt droplets fall against her leg and she shivered. Finally, Snake had chased away the competitors, bloodied and beaten, and he dragged away his half-conscious prize. The calico's head dragged in the sand, eyes half-closed and blinking slowly, one twisted leg hanging at an awkward angle as Snake carried her away by the tattered tail.

"I think I might be sick," Whitefang gasped for air, turning away from the scene and retching.

"You've seen worse…" Lightheart tried to comfort her, his tail tracing circles on her back. She shook him off.

"This…this is _heinous_, Lig-Ace," she corrected herself quickly, "This is so ugly it makes me sick."

"Not feeling well, pretty lady?" A sneer rattled her bones, and she looked up into the eyes of a smelly yellow tom with dull, slimy gray eyes. One side of his face was crusted over with blood already, and his shoulder was torn open to the bone. He still managed to grin. Turning to Lightheart, he simpered: "I'll take her off your paws."

"Get away from me," Whitefang snarled, all nausea lost as she rose to her full height and stared down the beaten tom. He shuddered and limped away slowly, all sense of superiority gone.

"You're going to make them suspicious!" Lightheart mumbled, helping her away from the group that was watching them curiously. "She-cats don't talk like that here."

"So I'm just supposed to lie there and take it?" Whitefang hissed.

"Yes," Lightheart replied simply. Whitefang glared at him and turned away, ready to watch the next fight. The ratty, unclaimed she-cat with a sour expression returned to the others, sending her searching paw in once again. Only one cat refused to run from it: a proud looking ginger tabby, whose eyes glowed to tell the world her mission was complete.

"Rosepaw," Whitefang managed a soft whisper, her throat was closing. Fear gripped her, knowing the apprentice was up there on her own, knowing what befell the last one. Rosepaw was pretty: streaks of light gleamed, bouncing off her clean pelt and her amber eyes shone. Lightheart's eyes were on her, and Whitefang knew it wasn't just because they needed to win her back. He _wanted_ to win her. The Sanctum she-cat did not push Rosepaw to the center; she refused to be pushed. She walked there with her head held high, eyes set on something distant. Whitefang lifted her gaze from her clanmate to her former friend, and saw his green eyes alight with interest. His shoulders tensed.

"Barkpa-Leo wants her too. He's ready to spring. You have to be fast, Ace, really fast!" Whitefang hissed in Lightheart's ear, her heart tightening, and her breaths becoming shallow.

"Begin!" Barkpaw called, leaping from his perch into the circle. Lightheart shot from her side like a bolt of lightning. Whitefang watched Rosepaw spin around, and as the brown tom tried to snatch at her, Lightheart was there. In an instant, he had pinned his brother to the grimy floor of the abandoned warehouse, drawing blood. Barkpaw, however, remembered his training. Though klutzy, he managed to avoid the moves of his younger sibling. Lightheart, faster, stronger, more skilled than Barkpaw, used his warrior training to an advantage. Blood was drawn, and screams echoed across the clearing. As other toms ventured forth to capture the ginger tabby while her two formidable suitors were distracted, Rosepaw would swipe and slash like a demon. _Timbermask, Timbermask where are you? Take her away! Take her away!_ But the boneheaded brown tabby tom launched himself instead at Barkpaw, hissing and spitting words uncouth to the slumlord. Jumping at the chance, Lightheart snatched Rosepaw by the scuff and pulled her away from the knotted mess of lustful toms. They chased after the paw, but Rosepaw kept them at bay as her savior carried her over the threshold to the outer ring, where Whitefang awaited their arrival with bated breath.

"Here! We're here!" Lightheart panted, dropping Rosepaw at the paws of the white warrior before dropping to the ground, panting. His flank was torn up, but otherwise the gold and white tom was fine. Whitefang leaned over to inspect the apprentice's scratches, but Rosepaw was nearly unscathed.

"You did well," Whitefang purred softly, so as not to attract the attention of others. But the purdah leaders were watching the trio closely, as well as Timbermask. The tabby tom had raked his experienced claws down the sides of many a face in the arena: every cat was wary of him.

"Stop being so nice to each other! Look jealous!" Lightheart hissed out of the corner of his mouth. Whitefang immediately glared at the apprentice, sneaking her a sly wink; Rosepaw smirked cockily and began to lick her wounds.

"So, how was Addie?" Lightheart whispered to Rosepaw, Whitefang inching closer to be in on the information.

"Scared. Terrified, in fact, because she didn't know who I was. But she's not hurt. She's tired and hungry, but not injured. She says that the she-cats are pretty well taken care of in the days leading up to the ceremony, because the toms want to get in good with them. They're brought food and water and comfortable nest-things, and different toms try to impress them. Judging by the looks the other she-cats shot her, Addie was pampered a lot." Rosepaw replied, her voice low. She smiled and batted her eyelashes, keeping up the pretense of a newly won mate. It sickened Whitefang, knowing that these cats actually behaved that way, and not as a cover.

"Anything else?" Lightheart pressed.

"Well, most of the cats don't want to be there. At all. They're all so frightened, guys." Rosepaw mewed sadly.

"Did you tell Addie to volunteer herself so we can fetch her quickly? I want to get out of here!" Whitefang asked, glancing back and forth. Someone had to be listening. Cats of the Sanctum were not known for respecting privacy.

"No, I told her to stay until the end. Then all the toms will be tired out, broken, battered, and completely unwilling to fight. It's logical," Rosepaw explained. Whitefang nodded, though she was still unhappy. Lightheart nodded as well.

"A way to save our strength, too. Ah!" He exclaimed, putting weight on his left leg. Whitefang hurried over, and began prodding it gently.

"Sprained paw," she announced after a whimper of pain from the gold and white warrior. She silently thanked Shyfawn for sticking her in the medicine cat den for so many moons.

"You'll still be able to fight, right?" Rosepaw mewed nervously, glancing at his paw.

"Yeah-" He began, but Whitefang shook her head.

"No, no, no he will not!" She said firmly.

"But Addie-" Rosepaw protested.

"I'll fight if I have too, but that paw won't be fit to walk home on if he doesn't rest it. Now find me a rag." Whitefang snapped irritably, busying herself with Lightheart's injury so she could block out the raging noise from the arena. Her stomach roiled when she thought about the scene taking place in the inner circle, and she refused to acknowledge it. Rosepaw scampered off to fetch some kind of bandage – preferably cleaner than the rest of the mess – to wrap his paw. Whitefang sat beside the tom, and scanned the crowd. A crimson streak flashed, and she thought she knew immediately who it was. But…the pelt was in the ring. Looking closer, Whitefang realized it wasn't Barkpaw's mate, but a young tom a little younger than Rosepaw. _Probably starting his own purdah._ She thought nastily. Peering into the fray, she watching the lithe, well-muscled shape weave in and out of battling cats skillfully, making his way to the center. A pretty she-cat stood there, tail twitching nervously as she tried desperately to imitate Rosepaw's moves: she batted weakly at approaching toms, her eyes frantically darting about, searching for someone. Whitefang felt as though she recognized this cat.

Her pelt is a rich hazelnut brown, with darker brown paws, and her eyes are a brilliant green. Her face…the shape is so familiar. Finally, the fiery pelted tom reaches her. Relieved, she runs to him and he seems to embrace her. It was then Whitefang realized: she had seen this before. The tom, glowing like his mother with a pelt the deepest shade of crimson, shot through with streaks of golden-amber. When the light hit his fur, it shone like a thousand sunsets. His eyes, however, were a deep, expressive green. Identical to the she-cat's. Her fur was the same hue as her father's, with an angled face like her mother's. Whitefang's heart warmed when she realized how unlike him his kits were: his son fought for his sister, to save her from the coming toms. The fiery tom clawed his way through the crowd, sister at his heels. Looking up, Whitefang saw Barkpaw's face, twisted into a sneer of disgust. At his side was his mate, lovely as ever. Her pale gold eyes, the color of sunshine, gazed down upon her kits with love and admiration. This expression was wiped away as soon as her mate turned toward her, and she resumed a look of blank unfeeling.

Whitefang wanted to face him all over again, tear up the cocky brown tom until there was nothing left but a pile of bloody, hazelnut-colored shreds to litter this Starclan-forsaken arena. She looked away, refusing to watch any of the other battles until Addie's. They sickened her.

"Cleanest one I could find," Rosepaw's voice shook Whitefang out of her thoughts. The young ginger tabby dropped a strip of twoleg pelt, streaked with dust and speckled with a dark, dried, unknown substance at her paws.

"This is the best you could do?" Whitefang sniffed the rag disdainfully.

"Yeah, and?" Rosepaw muttered, grinding her forepaws into the dirt in frustration, "It's not like I can magically whip a clean poultice out of thin air, Whitefang." The thick-pelted warrior's head snapped up, golden eyes glaring at the apprentice. _Impertinent!_

"Now, you see here kit-" She growled, but Lightheart put a stop to it.

"Guys!" He grunted, voice low and surreptitious, "It's all supposed to be for show! I've torn up too many cats today, and I'd rather not carry your bodies home."

"Like you could take me!" Whitefang snorted, forgetting they were undercover, "I may be pregnant, _Dolan_, but you so much as touch me and I'll break your paw for real." The golden and white tom looked at her, red-amber eyes thoughtful as he cocked his head.

"Point taken," He replied quietly after a moment of thought. Rosepaw glanced at him in disbelief, and turned away sulkily. Lightheart's gaze softened as he gazed at her, and her stretched out his tail to the ginger tabby, prodding her gently with its white tip. "Aw, c'mere. Ol' Whitefang didn't mean to be mean. It's just her being, well, Whitefang. " He purred. Rosepaw glanced over her shoulder, and looked furtively at Whitefang, who rolled her eyes.

"Shut up." She muttered to Lightheart, who grinned.

"You know I'm right," He said cheekily.

"Do you want your stupid paw wrapped or not?" She growled irritably. This shut him up, and the tom went back to bothering Rosepaw. Whitefang shook out her pelt, and steeled herself before touching the ratty cloth before her. Reaching out, she snatched it up quickly and swung it over Lightheart's paw. Pulling it tight, watching for his winces, she secured it snugly. He put it on the ground and pressed down, testing the weight.

"Feels a lot better, actually," He mused.

"You're welcome!" Whitefang replied snarkily. He merely laughed. As Lightheart and Rosepaw turned back to the circle, impatiently waiting for it to be Addie's turn, Whitefang couldn't bear to look behind her. The blood, the guts…it wasn't worth it when there was no justice. No glory, no morality. Not that she could call what shed plotted for Falconshade _moral_…the warrior didn't quite have a high ground to stand on through the flood of ill-decisions. But _this_ was something else entirely. These cats were the scum of the earth: they had no code, no sense of right and wrong or good and bad. The very idea of them was disgusting.

"I'm going to take a walk," She declared. Her 'purdah' mates looked up at her, jolted from their giddy, giggly conversation and forced to remember she existed. She didn't understand how they could be so cute and cuddly while watching a bloodbath.

"Alright," Lightheart replied after a minute, and Rosepaw nodded, still unhappy with the idea of talking to Whitefang. Said she-cat rolled her eyes for what seemed to be the hundredth time on this trip.

"Oh, get over it already. It's not like I scratched you." She snapped before padding away. _Ugh. Stupid hormones, I sound like a brat._ She thought bitterly. Avoiding the suspicious substances littering the ground, the enormous, pregnant warrior picked her way through the Sanctum. The crowd of cats along the outer ring was loud and raucous, howling profanities and twoleg garbage at each other, especially the losers. She heard pitiful, pained shrieks from she-cats, and angsty, guttural calls from thirsty toms. Shivers wracking her spine, the she-cat continued onward. She realized, dimly, that it wasn't Barkpaw calling for the start of a heat, it was some other husky-toned tom. She didn't really care, but it was nice not to hear the voice she tried so hard to forget. Flashbacks ran through her head of the last time she'd seen him…a time she wished never to remember.

_Lying atop an enormous pile of multicolored pelts was a tom. Whitefang barely recognized him._

_His pelt was a deep, glossy hazelnut brown, his legs, muzzle, ears and tail an even darker shade. His slitted eyes were deep green, his whiskers long and neat. His tail twitched lazily as the she-cat by his side groomed his pelt lovingly. She was a sight, with a pelt the deepest shade of crimson shot through with streaks of golden-amber. When the light hit her pelt, it shone like a thousand sunsets. Her eyes were closed, but when she opened them, they were a stunning pale gold like sunshine. She must be his right flank. Whitefang thought. She followed Dolan as the golden and white tom climbed the mountain of pelts to reach his oblivious littermate and his lover._

_"Ahem," He coughed when he reached the top. Leo-Barkpaw, or whatever his name was now's eyes shot open. His mate's golden orbs fixed themselves on the young tom. "Leo." Dolan meowed. His voice shook, be it with anger, hatred, or fear Whitefang could not tell. But it was powerful._

_"Dolan," Her friend drawled. His voice was deeper, lower than it had been. It was stronger too. Far more confident, with a tinge of impatience and a low throb of arrogance. Whitefang scowled. "What brings you here to the Sanctum? I thought we had nothing further to say to each other." The brown tom's green gaze flitted from his brother to Whitefang. The warrior sensed no recognition in their depths. Her heart sank._

_"I'm here on business, Leo." Dolan hissed through gritted teeth. His brother drew a lazy paw over his left ear and inspected his claws._

_"I do not go by that name anymore. I don't wish to hear it any longer." He said slowly._

_"What would you prefer then, oh great one?" Dolan mewed, voice slippery and smooth as butter, eyes narrow as alleyways._

_"I am known now as Alpha." He replied. His eyes were on Whitefang now. "I see you brought a friend."_

_"Yes." Dolan said stiffly._

_"Well, she's not much to look at. Her eyes are nice. What do you think, my dear?" He turned to the she-cat lying beside him. The crimson-furred she-cat's voice was soft as silk when she replied:_

_"Don't you have enough?" The brown tom laughed._

_"Oh, one can never have too many, love. Tell me, why did you bring her if not to offer her to me?"_

_"She is the one who wants to speak with you. You are long dead to me." Dolan growled. His brother's eyes narrowed._

_"I see. What is it, then?" He asked Whitefang. Reluctant to give her name, the white warrior met his gaze evenly, summoning her strength._

_"You know me," She said simply._

_"Do I?" He asked._

_"Yes. From long ago, but you know me. I've missed you." She said truthfully. The pain in her chest grew when he blinked blankly._

_"I don't remember seeing you before," He meowed, "Tell me, are you another one night stand? I've had many before this purdah. Any kits I should know of?" His tone was snarky, as if he couldn't imagine loving someone like Whitefang. Her pain fell away. Whitefang felt only anger. She snapped._

_"You coward!" She snarled. His mate started and glanced at Alpha nervously. Whitefang continued, not to be dissuaded. Dolan took a step back._

_"You're nothing but a filthy coward! You abandoned me! You abandoned all of us!" She howled, claws unsheathing, "You do not know how much pain you caused me! Or how much pain you caused him! You do not know how we've all suffered!" She screamed, "I hate you! You tear his heart apart and he makes you a hero! Now you have the nerve to lie here and pretend to be someone else!" Whitefang slashed her claws across his face. The tom stopped._

_"Who are you?" He asked, voice a low hiss._

_"You know who I am, you coward." Whitefang whispered, "You have to remember your best friend. You promised you'd be there for me in the morning, Barkpaw. You never came home." His green eyes widened and he fell back into his nest. Whitefang felt the air go still._

_"Whitepaw?" He asked, stunned. She glared at him._

_"My name is Whitefang." She growled. Suddenly, fire returned to the brown tom's eyes._

_"Why are you here? I never wanted to see any of you again! That part of my life is over! I am Alpha! Who is Barkpaw? This is my home! I have no best friend! Get out of my sight!" He thundered. Whitefang stood her ground, eyes brimming with tears. Every cat in the room was watching them now._

_"They're all gone, Barkpaw." She whimpered, "Swanmist is dead. My sister is dead. Your father is dying, and this is what you say? I know you loved them, Barkpaw, you always had. Come home!" She pleaded. His eyes were dark._

_"Swanmist is dead, good riddance. Darkclaw is dying, and yet somehow I do not feel the pain." He meowed bluntly, "Leave."_

_"You loved her," Whitefang rasped, "Don't you have a heart? My sister is gone, dead, murdered. Your own father is dying from the same Riverclan claws. There is always the part of you that is Barkpaw. Who is Alpha? All I see is a coward, who hides behind she-cats and his own selfish desires. The cat I see before me is a lie. You don't deserve to die a hero!" She cried, lashing out at him again. This blow struck his cheek, and the blood welled up quickly._

_"Where are your warrior skills? Huh? Show them! Prove to me one part of you ever existed! Was our friendship a lie?" She yowled, dealing another blow to his shoulder. The tom stumbled back, tripping over his mate cowering beneath him._

_"Was any of it true? Were you ever so sweet and loyal? Did you ever love her? Tell me!" Whitefang roared, tears flooding her face and flying as she swung and clawed at his muzzle._

_"Whitefang! Stop!" Dolan called out, grabbing her scruff._

_"You don't deserve to live!" She howled, spit spraying from her muzzle as she lunged at her former friend, held back only by Dolan. The brown tom was still, his gaze empty._

_"Whitefang, stop! You're going to kill him!" Dolan shouted over her wild sobs._

_"No! Let me! Coward!" Whitefang screeched._

_"Let him live with himself, Whitefang! Let's go, come on." The golden and white tom mewed gently as the warrior collapsed to the ground._

_"Barkpaw...you're heartless. Dead to me. Nothing more than city scum." Whitefang hissed finally as she dragged herself to her paws and followed Dolan down the mountain of pelts._

Whitefang's tail twitched as those feeling came rushing back: the betrayal, frustration, anger and hurt. They twisted her stomach and pummeled her heart mercilessly, even when she thought she'd pushed them behind her.

"Why me?" She muttered to herself, "Of all cats, why me? Why him? And why won't this leave me alone?"

"Maybe because you're not supposed to be here," A hollow voice growled behind her.

**Who is it? I bet y'all already know.**

**QOTD: So, they've won Rosepaw, but at a little bit of a price. Will they be ready to win Addie? An who's this stalking Whitefang?**

**This is part 1 of 2. **

**Posting the second in like 10 minutes!**

**~Bright**


	64. Ember

**Hey!**

Whipping around to face whoever it was, Whitefang felt her mind melt as the familiar deep green gaze lit up the shadows like eerie street lights, casting reflected flecks upon the grimy floor. Flanked by two cats, just as large, his white, toothy sneer set her blood boiling in her veins. Emerging from the darkness, a hazelnut-brown tom stared into her golden eyes, looking just as he had so many moons ago, albeit slightly older. Whitefang wanted to lunge at him, to tear him apart, but she remembered her friends. To jeopardize their positions would be akin to screaming their names from the inner ring. Easing the tension in her clenched muscles, she assumed a flirty stance.

"What do you mean I don't belong here?" She asked, adopting a husky rasp, tracing her forepaw in the dirt in what she hoped to be a seductive manner.

"Don't think you have me fooled," Barkpaw jeered, "You're no more a Sanctum cat than you are a squirrel, Whitefang." The warrior immediately dropped the façade, shoving her ears forward, assuming a dominant stance. Second nature now, her claws unsheathed at the blink of an eyes.

"Been watching, have you? Are you _scared_, coward? Ready to crawl back in the skanky hole you dug yourself and die?" She hissed, golden eyes hard and cold as river stones. Barkpaw met it evenly, though fear flickered in the eyes of the toms by his sides. His sons, no doubt. Whitefang spat at their paws.

"I'm only going to ask you this one time, Whitefang," He snarled, saying her name as a clancat would say 'kittypet', "What are you doing here?"

"It's none of your business, _Barkpaw_," She retorted, "You wanted nothing to do with any of us anymore, remember?"

"And to have the nerve to arrive in my alley with _him_!" The brown tom growled furiously, and she knew he was referring to Timbermask, "when you know what he's done to me!"

"And what should I care? You're no friend of mine," Whitefang replied dryly, casting a scornful gaze over him and his grimy progeny.

"I could kill you right here," Barkpaw hissed. Cruel laughter rang out in her mind when she realized just what to say to get under his skin.

"You wouldn't dare hurt an expecting queen," She drawled, taking a step forward to demonstrate the sway of her swollen belly. Barkpaw's eyes widened to green pools as he noticed, and he took a step back.

"What? W-who-?" He stammered, for once sounding a little like the tom she'd once known. Whitefang grinned wickedly when she replied:

"Timbermask's."

Barkpaw's face turned from shock to rage, and then to raw fury.

"You wouldn't!" He hissed, stepping forward and meeting her face to face.

"You wanna bet?" Whitefang spat into his eyes. He growled and turned away, shaking his head wildly. His sons watched the pair in confusion, unsure of what to do. Each took a step back, and Whitefang recognized one. The tom who'd fought for his sister in the ring. He looked so much like his mother, but his eyes matched his father's like a reflection in a pool…the other one was thicker, rougher-looking with a heavier brow. His pelt was a dirty reddish-brown, with darker brown socks and venom-like bright green eyes, a mix of his father's deep vermillion and his mother's pale golden gaze. Overall, she decided, the red-pelted kit was far handsomer, with angled features and a prominent jaw, though he held no candle to Falconshade. Her view was disrupted when Barkpaw looked back up, his gaze virulent.

"Don't think I don't know what you've come for," Barkpaw said softly, his voice a mere hiss nearly lost on the roaring wave of cheering voices. Whitefang smirked. _Like you're smart enough to figure it out. Slum living has made you weak, and dulled your senses. You're nothing!_ She thought cockily. It must've shown on her face, because her foe sneered.

"Presumptuous much? I know you're here for the she-cat, the pretty brown and white kittypet. I know you brought her brother, your little _pet_, and the snooping little ginger tabby. I know you've brought the sister, though I thought we'd taught her a lesson the last time…" His lips curled into a deriding smirk, "And there's always dear _Timbermask_, lucky with _all_ the dimmest she-cats, it seems." Whitefang bristled. He may not be hers, and she may hold no affection for the pale brown tabby: but no cat would speak of him like that.

"You shut mouth, bastard," She snarled, "With your history of philandering I wouldn't dare open it again. More garbage would pollute this air, and it's not like this place is dirty enough!" She added, a bitter, sarcastic note tagged onto the end of her little speech.

"You don't seem to realize how the Sanctum works, _dearest_," Barkpaw mocked, claws unsheathed now, "That she-cat. She's reserved, brought in especially for my son. There will be no taking her away. I'll have my cats find all of you. If you run, we'll kill you. If you don't, we'll kill you. There's no way any of you will get out of here alive. The Clan does not mess with us, Whitefang."

"Father-" It was the first time she'd heard him speak, the red furred son. His voice was soft and thick, with buttery tones. Far different from the rough voice of his father, he seemed to take after his mother in speech.

"I want to hear nothing from you! We will speak later about your, ah, _adventure_ in that arena, kit!" Barkpaw snapped furiously, swiping the young cat across the cheek with unsheathed claws. Luckily, he ducked, and Barkpaw seemed not to care.

"Listen here, Barkpaw. That is no way to treat a kit, especially not one of your own!" Whitefang couldn't help but speak out, and have the wrath turn from the tom to her. She braced herself for the imminent blow, watching with a cold glare as Barkpaw raised his paw in preparation for a clumsy strike. Before it landed, however, the brown-pelted tyrant was shoved, slipping through the dust and dirt as he skidded away.

"Go!" Gasped the red tom as his brother lept upon his, crushing the last breath of air from his lungs. With wide eyes, Whitefang watched, stunned frozen, as the smaller cat battered his brother ears feebly. His strength was no match for the muscular sibling. Shaking herself from her state of stillness, Whitefang rose back on her hind paws and brought her forepaws crashing down upon the reddish-brown shoulder. With an 'Oof!' of surprise, he tumbled from the top of his brother and, before Barkpaw could rise, Whitefang shot off like a rocket toward the ring.

"We have to go! Now!" She panted, skidding to a halt before her comrades.

"It isn't even half finished!" Lightheart protested, unwinding himself from Rosepaw and staring at Whitefang, "We're not even close to Addie's turn!"

"He knows we're here. Your brother knows we're here, he knows we want Addie, and he's going to get all of us. We have to go!" Whitefang gasped for breath, kneading the dirt with anxious paws.

"Get all of us?" Rosepaw asked nervously.

"He's going to kill us, Rosepaw." Whitefang snapped, letting go of the fake names in this time of need.

"But we're warriors!" The apprentice argued weakly.

"The entire Sanctum against three warriors, a kittypet, and an apprentice? Rosepaw, Lightheart, we have to get out of here!" She insisted, "Rosepaw, go get Timbermask and Yara. Lightheart, we're going to get Addie." The ginger tabby, frightened now, nodded and took off in the general direction of the two oblivious tabbies.

"We need to find her as quickly as possible," Lightheart puffed as they ran toward the inner circle, weaving between distracted purdahs.

"You think I don't know that? I just saw your brother, Lightheart, and he wasn't happy," Whitefang growled. The pair slowed their speed as the outer ring thinned; they were approaching the group of she-cats. Stealthily, they crept up on the clump, and Whitefang spotted the pacing guards.

"Pretend you caught me," She hissed quickly.

"What?" Lightheart asked, confused.

"I ran _away_ and you _caught_ me, okay?" She muttered out of the corner of her mouth.

"Oh! I got it," He nodded.

"Make it look _real_," She added. Lightheart nodded again, and proceeded to shove her roughly toward the guards, careful of her swinging belly. Whitefang hissed and spat furiously, cowering before the patrolling cats as Lightheart brought her up to them. The toms looked at Whitefang carefully, and then glanced toward Lightheart.

"I caught this one running off, must've snuck out," He grunted, pushing her forward. Whitefang whimpered, and glanced at the toms meekly.

"Name?" A dusty brown tom asked gruffly.

"Frost," Lightheart gestured to Whitefang, "And I'm Ace. Hey, any chance I could take one…? Y'know, a reward?" He mused, looking longingly toward the crowd of nervous she-cats. The toms shook their heads.

"No can do. Now back off!" One growled, taking Whitefang by the scuff and tossing her in the midst of the assembled crowd. She managed to wink at Lightheart before submerging herself in the throng of she-cats. Wading back through to the guards before Lightheart left, and purred.

"You're so _big_ and _strong_," She said, emerging behind them. They jumped and spun around, rolling their eyes when they saw it was just her.

"Get back in there, Frost." One hissed, while the other smirked.

"Do you work out?" She cooed to the second tom, who grinned triumphantly to the first, and flexed.

"Well, yeah, I train…" He boasted, "Every day, and I can beat any cat in the Sanctum!"

"I bet you have a _huge_ purdah," Whitefang giggled, running her tail over his shoulders flirtatiously. The first tom padded over.

"Mine's bigger," He mewed quickly, trying to catch her attention. Her diversion caught Lightheart's eye, and she subtly gestured for him to sneak around the back. He acknowledged her silently, and proceeded to enter the crowd.

"Fight for me?" Whitefang asked sweetly, chucking each tom under the chin with the tip of her fluffy white tail.

"Uh huh…" The second hummed dreamily. Whitefang disappeared back into the group with a cheeky wink, leaving the drooling guards behind. Meeting up with Lightheart, and attracting many strange looks, the pair scan for Addie.

"Do you know Addie?" Lightheart began asking around, and the she-cats would shake their heads and hurry away, off to shuffle around nervously somewhere else.

"Has anyone seen Addie?" Whitefang called over the muttering din.

"Whitefang?!" A soft voice cried.

"Addie!" Lightheart called happily.

"Dolan!" Addie yowled.

"We're coming, we're coming! Just hold on!" Lightheart replied anxiously, shoving his way through the waves of she-cats pooling around them.

"Out of my way!" Whitefang growled, bowling over a tall yellow she-cat as she tried to leap over the crowd. Belly weighing her down, she fell from the sky prematurely, he landing softened by a pretty, plump tabby. "Oops," she muttered. Now separated from Lightheart, Whitefang called her name again: "Addie!"

"Whitefang!" The small, soft voice shrieked in pain.

"Addie, hold on!" Lightheart's anxious voice sounded, closer to her. Soon he was at her side again, and they pounded their way through the crowd desperately. Anguished wails could be heard as they got closer and closer…Lightheart' breathing quickened and his eyes were wide and anxious. Whitefang couldn't take it anymore, Addie's pain filled screeches slicing through the air like claws.

"OUT OF MY WAY!" She howled, channeling her size and strength. Hurtling through the clumps of she-cats at top speed, she let her momentum carry her through, knocking over defenseless, shuffling Sanctum cats left and right. She felt Lightheart's quick steps behind her, and she reached a clearing. Just over the last wave of mingling pelts, she heard Addie's gasps for breath. Steeling herself, utilizing her forward motion, Whitefang launched herself into the air once again. Her flight was sloppy: paws flailed to protect her stomach against the coming impact, her eyes widening as the ground rocketed closer. She spotted Addie, weak and vulnerable, pinned to the ground by a series of Sanctum toms.

"AHHHHHH!" Whitefang shrieked as she fell from the air, paws stuck out straight in hopes to land on all fours. With a 'Thunk!' she was sure could be heard from here to Starclan, she slammed into a burly gray tom. He tumbled over, the force of the impact sending him stumbling into one of his fellows. Whitefang rolled to protect her belly, and righted herself almost immediately after she hit the ground. Rising up on her hind legs, she brought her forepaws down hard on the shoulders of the gray tom: something snapped, and the sound echoed around the circle. The toms turned toward her, malevolent gleams lighting their dim gazes. Standing alone, Whitefang watched, chin up and head high, as they circled her, paying no attention to Addie. The soft brown she-cat gasped for breath and whimpered as the dust and grime stung her open cuts. The toms tightened their ring around Whitefang, tattered pelts blending together into a grimy mass of fur and blood. She recognized one of them, the gray tom she took down, as a cat from the inner ring. The others were merely nameless toms, faceless, like the kind she might fight in her dreams.

"What now?" She heard a brown and orange tom mutter conspiratorially to his companion.

"Ah, I see you've found her," A voice rang out from behind the circle. Whitefang snarled. _He's here._

"Alpha!" One of the toms let out a small mew of surprise.

"What do we do with her?" Another growled.

"Kill her." The brown tom said simply. She caught the last, harsh glow from his green eyes as he turned away. His mate was there, watching. Through the gap in the barricade Whitefang could see her. She saw the warrior, too. The crimson pelted she-cat stood in all her regal glory by her mate's side, eyes like rays of u shine in this dim, gloomy world. Whitefang noticed, for the first time, how similar the she-cat was to Swanmist: their shapes, their faces, the light in their eyes…all eerily similar. She noticed, too, that his mate was pregnant. Whitefang shifted her own paws, and felt the little lives squirm in her belly uncomfortably. The crimson she-cat's eyes widened, and she leaned over to speak to her mate, but Barkpaw turned her away. Beside him were his sons.

The scarlet tom had a fresh gash on his cheek, and the brother winced in pain each time he took a step. The larger one didn't spare Whitefang a second glance, while the other couldn't seem to take his eyes off of the circle that was slowly closing in around her. His gaze spoke: it asked her, _Why didn't you run?_ She shook her head briefly, before turning back to her executioners. With a smirk, she sized them up. They had muscle, sure, but no skill. She could tell by the way the moved closer that they possessed no finesse, no clear-cut wisdom in the way of true battle. But they outnumbered her, eleven to one. She was slower, too. This would be a challenge no matter their talent. A low growl rose in Whitefang's throat. _On the count of three. One. Two. Three!_ She lept at the nearest of the toms, slashing at his chest and face with merciless claws as the others closed in. Whipping around, she caught six muzzles with a flying forepaw, though one of their raked down her shoulder.

"Whitefang!" She heard Lightheart's voice over the hissing, spitting din ensuing about her. In a matter of second, it was eleven to two, her friend slicing and slashing like the best of them. Back to back, the pair held off the Sanctum toms just barely, the clumsy cats rushing them at every turn.

"Timbermask!" Whitefang howled, "Timbermask!

"Whitefang?!" Came the response, an anxious call from the near beyond.

"Dolan!" Yara's cry joined his, and Whitefang could hear the thundering pawsteps. With a quick duck and feint, she avoided a close call of her undefended right flank, and caught her attacker unawares with a swift kick to the stomach. He keeled over, but another took his place. This one was stronger and quicker, ducking and swiping like a seasoned apprentice. His aggressive maneuvers clipped her haunch, drawing blood, and as she winced he torn at her ear. All at once, he was no longer there. In his place stood a snarling pale brown tabby., emerald eyes alight with the fire of battle. A flash of golden fur, and Yara appeared by his side, a triumphant smile on her face as she pierced those who wronged her sister with thorn-sharp claws.

"Let's get out of here," Timbermask hissed, smacking down another assailant. Whitefang nodded, so exhausted by the events of the day she could barely keep her head up. The adrenaline rush was losing its kick, and her limbs felt like lead.

"Ambush!" Lightheart cried just as they were prepping to run, and both she and Timbermask looked over. The son, Barkpaw's son, had launched himself into what remained of the fray and was heading toward them. Yet…there was no menace in his gaze.

"You!" He gasped, looking at the group with wide green eyes. They regarded him warily, all except for Whitefang. Yara had gotten her sister up, and Addie stood beside the golden tabby, eyes half-closed from exhaustion. "There's cats…at every exit…"

"Good to know," Timbermask growled. Turning to Whitefang, he hissed, "Can I kill him now?"

"No," Said Whitefang firmly. She returned her attention to the panting tom.

"I can…get you out…but you need to promise me something." He meowed, looking up at the white warrior.

"And that is?" She asked.

"That I can come with you." He breathed, gaze hopeful.

"Your life is here!" Timbermask spat.

"Maybe I don't want it to be!" The red-pelted tom exclaimed, voice regaining its strength and sureness, "Maybe I'm sick of the lies, and the she-cats, and my father. Maybe I'm tired of knowing there's something more out there that I'll never get to see. Another world, full of adventure and friends and everything this isn't," He gestured angrily around the Sanctum, to the bodies of the toms strewn about the circle. The entire warehouse was still bustling with activity, but behind the pile of twoleg pelts and plastic, the group was safe from prying eyes and ears. "Maybe I'm not ready to be 'city scum' or 'alley trash' for the rest of my life." His green gaze pierced her gold, and he continued, voice softer: "I know you're warriors. I know what the Clans are, and I've heard the stories. I know about your code and your honor and glory. I want a part of that."

"You don't just _get_ a part of that. You _earn_ it." Lightheart growled.

"Then I'll do whatever it takes to earn it." The tom said.

"What's your name?" Rosepaw inquired, though she'd stayed quiet for the longest time.

"Does it matter? This part of my life is over." He replied, kicking a chunk of smelly twoleg trash away as he glanced down at his paws.

"We need to know what to call you. It's a long walk home." Whitefang supplied.

"Really?" The red tom said eagerly.

"REALLY?!" Timbermask thundered furiously.

"Really. Come now, what's your name?" Whitefang asked.

"Ember," The tom answered.

"Now, Ember, what do you say you show us the way out of here?"

"G'bye Addie, Yara, I'll miss you…" Lightheart mewed softly as he embraced his sisters outside of their twoleg den.

"Oh, Dolan…thank you." Addie murmured. It was about the thousandth she'd thanked them, and Whitefang was growing tired of it. Then again, she was tired in general. The two she-cats padded away into the den, disappearing through the cat-flap.

"So, we came out here to visit your family. Feeling satisfied?" Whitefang grunted, leaning on Timbermask for support as they continued walking.

"Very, actually. Sore too, but satisfied." Lightheart replied with a purr.

"I can't wait to be home! Pinepaw will be so jealous…" Rosepaw grinned. Lightheart laughed and sidled up to the ginger apprentice.

"Remember to go to the medicine cat den before you start gloating. Those cuts need something on them." He admonished.

"So, Ember, why didn't you say goodbye to Addie and Yara?" Whitefang asked. Timbermask still refused to speak to the young tom, and was completely against his coming home with them.

"Was I supposed too?" Ember wondered, "I don't really know them."

"Hasn't your father taught you anything about your family?" Whitefang inquired, "Anything at all?"

"No, not really…" Ember mewed, confused.

"Yara and Addie are your father's younger sisters. They're your aunts," Whitefang explained.

"And that makes me your uncle," Lightheart added. Ember's eyes widened with delight.

"So I have family in the Clans! I have you!" He purred, running up to Lightheart excitedly. The tom laughed and nodded.

"Yeah, you have me. And _any_ cat would be lucky to have me." He smirked, winking at Whitefang and Timbermask. Whitefang rolled her eyes.

"There's the Lightheart I know and love," She teased.

"And your father used to live in the Clans," Lightheart added, "Before me. But he left," the tom glanced at Timbermask, who looked away abashedly, "And your grandfather lived in the Clans as well."

"Will I get to meet him? Is he a true warrior?" Ember asked, bouncing a little on his paws. Lightheart's gaze darkened.

"No, unfortunately…I didn't even get to meet him much either. He died when I got to the Clans. But I'm sure if you go to the elder's den, they'll tell you plenty of stories. Everything you've ever wanted to know about your father and your grandfather. Hollowstar, our leader…he's your great-uncle. You'll see a lot of your grandfather in him. And if you ever want to know more about your grandmother, or your aunts and uncles, you can come to me. Okay?" Lightheart murmured, touching the smaller tom's ear with his nose gently.

"Okay," Ember whispered, in awe of everything. But his eyes still watered with the knowledge that he'd never meet Darkclaw.

"Y'know, you don't even have to wait to hear some stories!" Whitefang exclaimed as they padded toward the thunderpath, "Once we cross, I'll tell you _all_ about the time your father, Barkpaw, arrived in Shadowclan…"

"Barkpaw?" Ember wondered.

"Yes, Barkpaw. He was very different back then, Ember. Very different…"

**QOTD: Thoughts on Ember?**

**This is part 2 of 2. Hurrah! Don't worry, there'll be more Falconshade coming up soon. I promise!**

**~Bright**

**ps. the contest is still on for all ya'll who still need to enter! Just PM me your submissions, or email them to me at brighteyesauthor(at symbol)gmail. com**


	65. Cold as Starlight

**Updateeeeeeee before I go on vacationnnnnnn gonna go watch Hozier slayyyyy at Jazz Festival y'all!**

**So yeah the contest due date is in four days so hurry and submit your entries before hourglass is empty on April 20th!**

**Yeah! Glad y'all like Ember!**

Emberkit had spent nearly every waking moment since he had arrived either in the forest or the elder's den. Hollowstar had taken him in immediately, of course, much to the dismay of the others. Whitefang vouched for him, as did Rosepaw and Lightheart, but their voices weren't enough to quell each and every suspicious glance or snide comment. Timbermask was no help; the tabby was still furious with Barkpaw after what he's done to Whitefang, and any son of his was, in his mind, just as bad. Whitefang had refused to speak to him after he voiced his resentment when Hollowstar announced Ember's new name: Emberkit. Turns out he was a mere five moons old, and already fighting like a young apprentice. The young red tom enjoyed the nursery, and his foster mum, Duckflight, who'd kitted while they were out. Little Badgerkit had given her loads of trouble, he was nearly as big as a moon old kit when he arrived (or so Whitefang was told) and the labor was long. However, the pretty dark ginger she-cat with black badger-like markings was a delight in the nursery. Not truly a delight to her foster brother, however. Her soft whimpers and wild whines drove Emberkit mad, and Whitefang or Lightheart would always volunteer to take him out into the forest. Hollowstar agreed, of course, watching his great-nephew with adoring eyes as little by little, sparks of Darkclaw flew from him. The little red tom was practically more like the dead tortie than Lightheart was.

Emberkit adored the forest, but the elder's den was where his heart truly lay. Jumpfire and Frecklestep relayed tales of yore to the little tom, and he would sit there for hours, starry eyes and enraptured by the woven words. Icegaze had joined the elder's den as well, older than both of Whitefang's parents and a thousand times as irritable as Lostwind had been, content to glare and snap at Emberkit on his ventures into the cozy, dark den. Whitefang hated the tom with a passion, and he the same, but they tolerated each other for the older cats' sake. Jumpfire and Frecklestep thought Emberkit was the brightest thing, both mentally and physically, that they'd seen in seasons. The tales of Whitefang, warrior of the wolves, could be heard across camp everyday, alongside stories of Hollowstar, Darkclaw, Timbermask, Swanmist, Stonetail, Paledove, Addershriek, Whitefang, and many others. Emberkit got it into his head that Whitefang was a hero, a legend in her own right. She refused to believe it, and loathed it when the kit followed her about reciting farfetched sagas of glory.

Featherfall thought Emberkit was the most precious out of all of them: she took the tom under her wing from day one, and they'd been practically inseparable ever since. The dappled brown she-cat loved him so much that Cherrynose told Whitefang she thought she'd overheard her mother begging her father for another litter: she was peeved that Featherfall didn't seem satisfied with her kits.

"Honestly, she has me and Doestep, and Sparrowtail and Blizzardpelt. She's practically raising Emberkit, too. Does she need more?!" The tortie exclaimed irritably as she and Whitefang were lounging in the sun one day. The thick-pelted white she-cat was burning up, and felt as though she might pop, but suffered through the sunshine for her friends sake. Whitefang held her tongue as Cherrynose prattled on and on; she didn't feel the need to remind her best friend that this was _her_ second litter, and that she already had Aspenpaw, Sorrelpaw, and Honeypaw and did she really need more too? She tried to keep herself from laughing when Bouncestrike was heading over to them, heard his mate's rambling, and hurried away, eyes as wide as saucers as he realized he wanted no part in the conversation with his hormonal and argumentative darling.

"Honestly, does she want her kits to overrun the camp? They would call it Featherclan! Great Starclan, can you imagine?" Cherrynose finished dramatically, looking over at Whitefang, awaiting her opinion. Carefully sidestepping any sort of conflict, she replied:

"Dreadful," She murmured, scuffing her paws in the dirt uncomfortably. She was ready for nightfall, where she would see her beloved Falconshade. She needed him right now, she felt like a bloated squirrel who horded his nuts and downed them simultaneously; it was only he who could possibly make her feel beautiful. Cherrynose had long since given up on telling her just how _graceful_ she was, how _easily_ she pulled off the extra weight, and how _fit_ she seemed. It wasn't worth the bother. And besides, Cherrynose herself was hauling her chubby figure around camp like she was carrying tree, not kits and a couple extra ounces.

"So anyway, I told Blizzardpelt, and he was all 'Oh, but they're _old_' and I was like I _know_ they're old, that's my point! And then Doestep comes over and she was all like 'But kits are so cute, let them do what they want' and Sparrowtail was like 'Great Starclan, just because you're expecting with _Grayshadow_ doesn't mean-"

Whitefang cut her off immediately, "She's expecting with Grayshadow?!" Cherrynose scowled.

"Were you not listening to me?" She huffed.

"No, no…I was but…Grayshadow? Really?" Whitefang mewed incredulously, hating herself for gossiping.

"Well, what other choice does she have? It's not like we have a variety of toms who aren't somehow related to her," Cherrynose grumbled, "There! Another point!" As she continued to babble, Whitefang looked away to where the pretty dappled brown she-cat, spitting image of her mother, sat with the gray and black streaked tom. Funnily enough, Lightheart wasn't fawning over her anymore. He spent far too much time out in the forest with the apprentices. Especially Rosepaw. They were discreet enough so Dawnstrike and Mothwhisker wouldn't notice, but Whitefang sure did. And Timbermask disapproved heartily. _But what else is new? _Whitefang thought, squishing a bug under her paw in frustration. Lifting it up, she scuffed away the little black mark she'd left, smashed into the dirt. _It's not like her cares about other cats _feelings_ oh no, it's only Timbermask's opinion that matters, only Timbermask's feelings! Blah, blah blah…_

"Hey, are you listening to me at _all_?" Cherrynose snapped, jerking Whitefang from her thoughts.

"Um, no?" She replied, glancing at the sky. Finally, the sun was setting, and the earth that had been warmed all day was beginning to cool, "Hey, I've gotta run. I, uh, need the exercise. I'll catch you later, okay?" She got up and began to make her way over to the tunnel.

"But I didn't even get to the good part!" Cherrynose called after her.

"You can tell me later!" Whitefang said over her shoulder, "Bye!" Taking advantage of the stunned silence, she darted as quickly as a pregnant she-cat could out of camp, jostling her way through the tunnel, her wide belly scraping the sides. _How many of you guys are in there anyway, ten? I'm wide enough to be two cats, not just one, and this tunnel is single file!_ Finally, she squeezed herself out onto the other side, and made a break for it through the trees before anyone could catch her. It was like all they wanted to do was keep her inside these days. _Great Starclan, a lady needs her fresh air. _She thought, rolling her eyes as she weaved clumsily through the twisting turning trail and spiky branches, She felt as though if one jabbed her side she would pop like a ripe pine nut, and spill her seeds all over the ground. _Not a good move, Whitefang, not a good move. _She told herself sternly.

"Whitefang," A purr resonated over the border, rumbling so loud it shook the dainty leaves that clung to the beech trees, leaning elegantly over the border into Riverclan territory: a solitary cardinal perched on a smooth beige branch, chirping short, sharp melodies.

"Falconshade," She murmured, trotting up to him and burying her face in his thick neck fur, no longer conscious of the heat that still hung heavy in the dusk air. Glowing sunset colors cast a soft orange light over the forest, showering them in brilliant, fiery hues.

"I've missed you, gorgeous…" He mumbled into her cheek as he nuzzled her.

"Hey yourself, handsome!" She giggled as he pulled back, licking his nose playfully.

"How are you?" He asked gently, settling himself down onto the long, swaying grass. She lay down beside him, both facing the stars.

"Fine, I guess." She sighed, "And you?"

"I could be better," He mused, "Caught a fox on our territory the other day, and it ravaged a couple warriors. It caught my brother, but Rowanfoot wanted to go anyway. His daughter wasn't terribly upset, to be honest; he had gotten far too distant to remember missing. And mother passed on, but I'm sure you knew that. She told me she'd e watching for the kits," He laughed, "And I realized I'm ready. I'm ready to come to Shadowclan, and I'm ready to be father. I wasn't quite sure I was up to the responsibility for the longest time, and , to tell the truth, I was thinking about leaving it to you. You seemed so sure…so prepared. But Now I see everything that we could be," He rolled over and gazed at her, blue eyes turning to pools of hope, "I'm ready to really start our life together, Whitefang."

She sucked in a deep breath, this was more than what she'd hoped for tonight. But…_Emberkit._ She thought, _The Clan still hasn't gotten over Emberkit. Great Starclan, and I was the one who vouched for the little fella! If I try to coerce those cats now, bringing in a Riverclan warrior, for heaven's sake, their nerves would pop!_

"You would not believe how happy I am," She murmured, "that you're ready. But I don't think my Clan is." She recited her story to Falconshade, including every part she'd left out the first time. Of course, she neatly avoided the little snippet about Timbermask and his 'I love you' goodbye in the Sanctum. That bit was a little much to press upon the poor tom she loved. Falconshade's face fell with every word, and by the end he'd turned away.

"Baby," Whitefang sighed, "Baby, baby…you don't this is hard for me too? I know it's my fault, and I'm sorry, but you can wait just a few more weeks, huh? One more moon? Falconshade-" She pleaded, placing a gentle white paw on his shoulder.

"No, I get it. You did what you had to do." He rolled back over and gazed into her fearful eyes: she didn't want him to drift away again, not ever. "I swear I'll be there for you. I can wait. It'll just be…it'll just be hard, okay? I'm so ready. Ready to share a nest, to meet your parents, raise our kits, everything. But if waiting one more moon means we'll finally have our perfect ending, then so be it. You're worth it," He nuzzled her belly lovingly, "All of you."

"Oh, Falconshade…" Whitefang whispered, at a loss for words. Her heart had melted like ice under the spring sun, and for a minute all she wanted was him. She didn't care what he clanmates thought, what Timbermask thought or Paledove. She wanted their perfect ending. _For once in a lifetime, it would be perfect. Me. I would have the perfect everything, not Swanmist. For once in my-_ She stopped, realizing what she was going to say. Remembering her promise.

_Swanmist's pale green eyes were wide and clouding, pupils flicking this way and that until they found Whitefang. Then those dark pools in the midst of sea foam green never left their mark. Her breath, coming with short, quick gasps, was punctuated with fearful coughs, blood trickling from the side of her jaw. Her stomach was split up the center, torn so badly Whitefang could hardly look at it. Blood pooled around them, flooding the already saturated ground, soaking into the white-based pelts and staining them ruby. Rain streamed over Whitefang and dripped into her eyes. She couldn't tell what were tears, and what was rain._

_"Swanmist…" She whispered._

_"It-it hurts…so much. Help me, Whitefang. Save me again…Oh, Whitefang," Swanmist coughed up blood, the red spurting from between her lips and trickling down her chin. Whitefang clutched at her, pulling her closer until she could feel her sister's heartbeat in her own chest. The tears flowed freely now, and her vision swam._

_"Stay with me, Swanmist. Don't leave. Don't leave me! Swanmist!" She wailed, golden eyes welling up with tears. Swanmist's heartbeat was slowing, slowing._

_"Don't leave me Swanmist…" Whitefang sobbed._

_"Avenge me…" Swanmist whispered, voice hoarse as if she had gargled with broken glass. It cracked at the end._

_"I won't…I won't avenge you, because you aren't leaving me!" Whitefang replied, voice soft._

_"Promise…promise me, Whitefang…I need you to promise." Swanmist rasped desperately, eyes searching Whitefang's face._

_"I will. I promise, I promise…" Whitefang murmured, voice wavering and tortured. Swanmist's eyes glazed over and her heart slowed to a nonexistent beat. The life left her veins and spilled freely onto the ground. Thunder crashed above._

_"We won!" Whitefang heard Grayshadow yell, as if through walls. Her vision was hazy as her mind, she had eyes only for Swanmist. __Swanmist…_

_"Whitefang! We won! What are you-SWANMIST!" Bouncestrike shouted, running to them, paws bloodied and slipping in red and brown mud._

_"Swanmist!" Kestrelwind screamed, amber eyes wide as the moon itself._

_"No!" Grayshadow howled. Whitefang was silent ,rocking back and forth, cradling her sister's limp head in her forepaws. __Swanmist, Swanmist, Swanmist…_

_"Whitefang, Whitefang get up. We have to bring her body back." Bouncestrike whispered in the white warrior's ear, though his voice shook with sorrow._

_"No! She-she can walk!" Whitefang hissed, "Come on, Swanmist. Get up. You can get up." She sobbed, nudging her sister's body gently._

_"She's dead, Whitefang." Grayshadow meowed bluntly, voice stunted with grief._

_"No! No! Swanmist isn't dead! She can't be dead! She can walk, she…can walk…" Whitefang wailed, prodding at what was Swanmist in vain._

_"Whitefang, let's bring your sister home. She needs help to get home, Whitefang." Sharpcloud's voice pierced through the haze that was what remained of her thoughts._

_"Home…Swanmist can walk…" She insisted desperately._

_"Swanmist needs your help to bring her home," Sharpcloud choked._

_"I-I will carry m-my sister," Whitefang meowed._

_"Of course you will." Bouncestrike soothed._

_"I-I promised her…avenge…I promised…she can't be dead." Whitefang stuttered, stumbling as Sharpcloud and Bouncestrike lifted her to her paws. Kestrelwind had sunk to the ground, body quivering. As Bouncestrike and Sharpcloud lifted the body to her shoulder, Whitefang shuddered. It was as if her heart had torn in two, and one half had been trampled and scarred by an army of warriors who knew no mercy. As she stumbled home, leaning on the shoulder of Sharpcloud and letting Bouncestrike share the weight of the body, her stomach twisted painfully. Her wounds burned as well, and the bitter rain merely stung them as it seeped through the clotted blood and tattered flesh. When they reached camp, no cat came out to greet them. They slid the body from their shoulders and for the first time, Whitefang saw her. Swanmist was gone, eyes lifeless, form limp, cold to the touch and without heartbeat. Her sister was __dead__. Her stomach knotted itself and unraveled, and Whitefang collapsed, retching through the horror of it all. As her stomach emptied, she dry heaved, wailing._

_"NO!" She screamed, "NO! This can't be happening! NO! Swanmist, come back! I need you, come back!" She howled her misery to the inky darkness where no star shone, and where no moonlight filtered through the storm. Cats emerged from their dens, first warily, then all at once. Then there were the screams._

_"SWANMIST!" Paledove shrieked, throwing herself at her lifeless daughter, wailing her grief to the absent stars as her daughter did. Stonetail rushed to the side of Whitefang, tears streaming, and the two huddled together beside the bloodied, battered corpse, watched as Paledove threw herself at the ground and lay upon the body, sobs wracking the gorgeous, slender warrior. Timbermask screamed his fury, his sorrow, and lay beside his mate as if he had died as well. Addershriek made no move to comfort his son; he knew as well as any cat that this would only earn him scars. Timbermask pounded the ground with his paws as Whitefang collapsed into Stonetail, too upset to utter a single sound. Paledove sounded like she was being strangled, writhing beside her precious first-born as if she were taken by poison. Shyfawn watched miserably; there was nothing she could do to ease this pain. The Clan watched silently, many tears falling and splashing to the ground like raindrops. Stonetail cried silently as well, watching the sky._

_Thunder shook the earth as Starclan themselves wept the loss._

_The sky truly cried that night._

Tears shone in her eyes, reflecting the silver stars. _Swanmist. Oh, Starclan, how she deserved this life. _Guilt clawed at her, and she tried to wrap herself tighter around her dozing mate, as if her would protect her from the stabbing, icy cries of her dying sister, the stars shining down like cold, unforgiving icicles. _You promised_. They seemed to whisper, voices soft and harsh like stones scraping stones in a storm-tumbled river. _You promised, Whitefang. You promised._

_I know I promised! _She wanted to wail to the stars, _But does all happiness come at a price?_

_Your sister paid the ultimate price. And now you bask in the glory of life as she wanders the skies._

_I-I can't kill him. I _love _him!_

_You promised._

_I take it back! I take it all back!_

_You promised!_ The stars words thundered and echoed about her head, bouncing off her skull and rebounding, so loud she felt as though she might implode. The implications of this guilt were tremendous: she'd broken a promise. She'd never broken a promise. It was her one thing, and now she felt as though she'd shattered. She'd kept her sister's pregnancy a secret: she'd promised; she was always there for Barkpaw: she'd promised; she held her truce with Timbermask: she'd promised; she went out to fetch Barkpaw: she'd promised; she'd stayed by the sides of Lightheart and Emberkit: she'd promised; she retrieved Addie; she'd promised. But this one, the most important oath of all she'd broken. She had everything her heart desired, yet she had nothing. She had told Swanmist she would avenge her, and yet she fell for him instead. _I promised. Swanmist, forgive me._ She begged the cold silver stars. Their light merely grew brighter, more punishing than ever before.

_You have betrayed her trust. You broke a vow, you'd sworn an oath, and those words mean nothing in your mouth! "I promise," you're like dust on a desert plain: flighty, ready to drift away and blind those who you hold close. You are _nothing_ and you will never be. Have you not seen the signs? You don't deserve this, any of this. You are a disgrace to the name of the Clans, dead in the eyes of Starclan, as empty as a parched riverbed. You are _nothing_. _

These words stung her heart like whipping nettles, and the tears flooded her eyes as Whitefang realized what she was: soulless. Unworthy of love. She _was_ nothing. The dampness soaked through the fur of her cheeks and seemed to drench her soul. As she writhed under the burden of what she'd done, Falconshade stirred by her side.

"What's wrong, love?" He murmured, and his voice set her aflame.

"N-nothing." She managed, rising up from his side and looking away, cloaking her face in shadow.

"Whitefang, I know it isn't nothing. It's never nothing, darling, talk to me." He pleaded gently, staring up at her from the ground. He reached forward with an outstretched ginger paw and skirted around it, fearing that his touch itself would burn her to her core like hellfire. She didn't deserve him, or the happiness he brought her.

"I should be heading home," She choked out, the salty tears stinging her eyes as she shut them tightly. She willed her paws to leave, but they stayed rooted to the ground. However much her mind wanted to go, her heart fought valiantly. _Stay, _it implored with every beat, _Stay with him, speak to him, you control your own destiny._ _If you toss a pebble in a river, the current may stay the same, but a boulder changes the course forever._ Despite these words, Whitefang strained to get away. Taking advantage of her hesitation, Falconshade rose and stepped by her side.

"You're crying," He whispered, lifting her chin with his muzzle.

"No duh, Captain Obvious," She laughed bitterly through her shuddering, silent sobs. The more her stayed by her side, the more she burned.

"Don't cry, baby, don't cry. Tell me what's wrong, Whitefang. We're a team. There's a little something called trust, something we share. You can tell me anything, I swear to Starclan that I'll help you," His voice seemed to stitch her frayed nerves back together, and the painful shivers ceased racing up and down her spine like clawed mice, each tingle like a searing pain. His tone set her aflame, but melted her icy armor that stars had built, the scalding sensation both pain and pleasure. He twined his tail with hers, and electric shocks reverberated through her like she was struck by lightning. She knew he was there; moons later from the day they'd met and he still sent goose bumps across her skin and made her feel like the only she-cat in the world. _We're a team._

"Alright," She whispered softly, "I can talk."

"Sit," Falconshade sighed. Whitefang swallowed her guilt and snuggled up beside him. "So, what's wrong?" He asked. Whitefang sucked in a deep breath. The silver, glinting specks seemed to glare down at her, warning her not to do it. She shivered beneath their icy stares, but the warm blue gaze of her mate held her in its glow. _We're a team._

"Falconshade…" She met his eyes brazenly, "I promised my sister something. Something I regret."

"And that is-?"

"I told her I'd kill you."

**So this all takes place in the span of a few hours, a couple days after they return home. Let's gooooooooooo I'm wicked pumped right now so just gonna get out my energy here HAHAHA ok bye.**

**QOTD: Well, maybe not 'bye' just yet. Falconshade's reaction vs your reaction if you were him...?**

**A bientot!**

**~Bright**


	66. For One Night

**Dun dun dun...**

**Sorry I've been absent!**

**Winner of the contest: Silverwillow of the Freljord! Congratulations! Her oneshot will be up shortly.**

* * *

><p>"Kill me," Falconshade repeated, gazing into her eyes. His voice was steady, but there was a certain confusion in his eyes, his clear Greenleaf-sky blue eyes that held her heart so tight. <em>We're a team.<em> She reminded herself.

"Yes," Whitefang whispered tearfully. _Team._

"But you didn't," He mewed, "You didn't."

"But I broke my promise, Falconshade. I broke it, and I never break promises! I love, I love you more than I love myself, but my sister was my best friend, one of my only friends for the longest time…I owe it to her to stay true." The thick-furred warrior looked away from her mate, expecting him to lash out. She knew she would have, had she been him. But he didn't.

"Whitefang, don't you think it's wrong for her to swear you into murder? Did you ever stop, just for one second, to contemplate the justness of her words? She was dying, delirious, and all she wanted was to stay with you. She didn't know what she was making you do, Whitefang, all she knew was that you were both in pain. It kills me to know that I caused that pain. But Whitefang, your sister would want you to be happy. If she really loved you, she wouldn't hold you to this one oath; she would watch over you and hold you close in her heart. She must realize that you have a life to live as much as she would had it been you who died on that battleground. I know your promises are special, Whitefang, and I know you're in pain, but listen to reason. It isn't right for her to expect this of you. It isn't your job to live her life _for_ her." The ginger tabby gazed at her, hoping she understood what he said. Whitefang glared at him.

"You don't get it! She was my sister, my only sister, and I would do _anything_ for her! She knew what she was saying! She knew, and I knew, what I was getting myself into!" She spat at him, rising up from the ground and looking at her mate malevolently. _Team. What team? We are no team, you don't listen to me, you don't care! _

"Whitefang, be reasonable-" Falconshade tried to talk to her, and make her understand. But she resisted. _Reasonable my ass!_

"I don't know how I could be so foolish, telling you this! How in Starclan's name could I _possibly_ believe that you would understand me?" She stomped in tightly circles, cursing both him and the stars simultaneously. _Falconshade, you bullheaded tom with your high and mighty ideals; life doesn't work that way! Starclan, with your 'do this' and your 'be good' and your 'trust in us, you'll be alright' well you're wrong! I'm not good; I'm not right; I'm not fine! I'm nothing at all, don't you see? Without her I am nothing and nothing is me!_

"You didn't kill me, and that's the point! That says something about _you_, Whitefang! Deep down you know that wasn't what Swanmist wanted, or intended! She was distressed and confused, and you shouldn't be the one to suffer for it." Falconshade argued, getting up to follow her. She turned her back to him, muscles tight. She no longer trusted his touch. _Stay away from me: you're no better than a blind tom, a deaf tom, you see nothing but what you want and hear nothing but what you say. Don't you realize that I'm the nothing that you wind up pushing away? No!_

"Leave me alone!" She exploded, turning on her and snarling, a rabid, wild version of her former self. _Maybe I will kill you._

"Whitefang, listen to me!" He growled, frustrated and finally letting it show. His gorgeous blue eyes darkened to the color of a clouded sky, a brewing storm.

"Stop it!" She howled, with no regard for quiet or secrecy, "Just stop it!" _Leave me be leave me be!_

"I won't stop until you listen to reason!" Falconshade hissed, ears flattening in anger, "If you won't listen to me, then at least listen to your heart!"

"You don't know me," Whitefang said, voice low and murderously strong, "You don't know what I hold inside of me and you never will." He met her gaze with a burning passion.

"I know you more than you know yourself: your strengths, your weaknesses, your faults and flaws, pride and prejudice. If you give me just one _minute_ and actually _listen _to me-" She cut him off with a furious howl, eyes ablaze with wrath.

"Don't say anything else! Don't tell me that you know me, or that you love me, anything! Every word out of your mouth is a lie and I know it! Don't you tell me to _listen to my heart_, Falconshade, because I am true to it! And you know what it's telling me, huh? You know what it's saying?" She snarled, lips twisting into a curdling sneer.

"Whitefang-" He warned her. But it was too late. _You think you know everything, don't you?_

"It's telling me that you'll never see me again," She whispered; voice nothing more than a harsh rasp, "Because we are _nothing_. I don't love you, you twisted bastard, and I never will again." With that, she whipped around and flung herself into the undergrowth, racing back to camp. She left him standing in the darkness, alone, wondering what went wrong and where. Wondering why she snapped. Wondering how she could break him like that.

Entering the nursery at the break of dawn with muddied paws and grimy, tear stained cheeks, her heart heavy and angry and burning a hole straight through her chest, Whitefang listened to no one.

Not Duckflight when she asked where she'd been, softly as not to wake Badgerkit and Emberkit.

Not Emberkit when he woke anyway, and she ignored the hurt on his face when she pushed him from her nest.

Not Cherrynose whose normally rough words with jagged edges had smoothed to soothe her.

Not Doestep who had crankily asked her to please be quiet, she needed her rest.

Not her parents the next morning when they visited with kind words and gentle hearts.

Not Timbermask with his anxious questions and pestering attitude.

She sat in a silent funk, nestling herself in the darkest corner of the nursery, meditatively fuming over her blowout fight with Falconshade. She stewed in her own vat of emotion, letting it bubble over and burn whoever came too close. Whitefang was alone even when she wasn't, her mind solitary and confined. She had silenced her heart: its words were Falconshade's and she wished not to listen to them in fear that he would be right.

Nights and days passed in slow motion, a haze of darkness and irking voices. Whitefang tried to shake the feeling that there was a black cloud of smog hanging over her, ominous and invisible, coaxing her tumultuous thoughts to turn to shadow.

_You have betrayed her trust. You broke a vow, you'd sworn an oath, and those words mean nothing in your mouth! "I promise," you're like dust on a desert plain: flighty, ready to drift away and blind those who you hold close. You are _nothing_ and you will never be. Have you not seen the signs? You don't deserve this, any of this. You are a disgrace to the name of the Clans, dead in the eyes of Starclan, as empty as a parched riverbed. You are _nothing_._ The cold, dead starlight the glinted through the cracks in the nursery ceiling seemed to mock and jeer at her; they condemned her to a life lived in the dark.

Whitefang had sunk into a deep depression.

She would lie awake and be reminded of all the wrongs she'd cast, and the words she'd screamed at Falconshade echoed, blatant and unforgiving, in her ears. She hated herself for it, but she needed him now more than ever.

Being alone was a frigid, barren wasteland she'd sentenced herself to; even the lives inside of her knew to leave well enough alone.

* * *

><p>One night in particular she felt the stabs of torment more keenly than usual. Or, at least, she thought they were from that. First it started with a tangled feeling in her gut, like that of guilt. It soon grew into a quick, sharp jabbing at her sides. Finally, it felt as though she were the shore of the lake, and waves of pain were flooding over her, sending tremors down her belly. She then realized what was happening with a jolt, and broke her silence.<p>

"Cherrynose," She whispered. Unused for the longest time, her voice was a mere whisper of air. Yet it still caught her friend's ear.

"Whitefang?" The tortie mumbled, blinking open her deep blue gaze to spot the white warrior in the dim den.

"Ouch," Whitefang muttered as another contraction gripped her sides, forcing her to curl in on herself. Never before had the brazen she-cat felt such pain.

"Whitefang!" Cherrynose exclaimed, scrambling to her paws in a hurry to reach her friend.

"Tell me, Cherrynose, when you gave birth, did it feel like you were dying?" She grunted, stiffening as another spasm gripped her stomach.

"Yeah, pretty much, but you'll make it, I swear to Starclan," Cherrynose breathed, placing a paw on Whitefang's bulging belly, "Oh, you're doing fine."

"I'd feel a lot better if I had- AH! –a medicine cat here, y'know?" She hissed through gritted teeth.

"Duckflight!" Cherrynose called softly. The ginger queen lifted her head from where it rested by Badgerkit and turned toward the pair.

"Huh?" She mumbled.

"Get Shiverspots!"

Duckflight's blue gaze widened as she noticed Whitefang, her back ramrod straight as she kept herself from yowling bloody murder. The queen hurried out of the nursery, and Whitefang could hear the quick patter of dark ginger paws as they raced across the clearing. She heard muffled voices, and soon the pale gray medicine cat, her pelt flecked with spots of snow-white fur, came quickly into the dark den. By then, Emberkit and Badgerkit had woken up, the latter mewing for Duckflight, and the former peering curiously into Whitefang's nest.

"Are you alright?" He asked sweetly. Whitefang managed a terse nod before yet another contraction sucked all the breath from her lungs. She felt as though she was on fire.

"Emberkit, Badgerkit, come with me dears." Duckflight murmured, "Whitefang's kitting. How about we go play a nice game of mossball with Blizzardpelt, hm?" Whitefang caught her mother watching the scene patiently from the entrance to the nursery, and the pale silver she-cat entered once the kits had cleared out. Doestep was still snoring through it all.

"This is eerily familiar," Paledove purred, coming to rest by her daughter's side, "As I recall, Rosedust led _her_ kits out to play mossball when I was kitting. Now her daughter does the same." Whitefang panted, half-listening to her mother as she fought for breath and squeezed her belly until she feared she might've birthed her intestines. Paledove lapped at her ears calmly.

"You're doing wonderfully, darling," She murmured, and Whitefang whined.

"Why does it hurt so much?" She gasped.

"Dear, I'd be more worried if it was _easy_," Paledove laughed, "She-cats have been having kittens for ages. It's natural. Now, for toms it seems unnatural. In fact, right now Timbermask is outside howling about the woes of kitbirth. Goodness, I hope Stonetail wasn't like that. I fear both of them have woken the entire Clan by now, though. Your father's worried about you." Whitefang was now soaked in sweat, and her throat was dry, her mouth parched. Each breath felt like a new set of claws in her lungs, and her push was a wildfire in the midst of battle.

"I see a head!" Cherrynose screeched, waking Doestep.

"Huh?" The dappled brown she-cat grunted in confusion.

"Push!" Shiverspots urged.

"I'm trying!" Whitefang rasped.

"Try harder!" Cherrynose insisted. Whitefang felt a momentary release of pressure; then the pain began again.

"A tom!" Shiverspots announced. Whitefang's eyes widened, and her heart seemed to stop for a moment. _A tom_. She had really done it. She'd had a kit. But…was it okay? Crippled? Alive?

"Tom?" She gasped, turning her head as she struggled to peer back into the horde of gathered she-cats. Doestep had now joined the party, much to her dismay.

"A lovely tom! Goodness, he's perfect!" Paledove gushed. Whitefang felt her mother leave her side, but in an instant she returned with a little white bundle in her mouth. A pure white bundle. His pelt was long, thick, and tangled much like hers, and he was already wailing. Whitefang couldn't tear her eyes off of her son, but another surge of muscle contractions, the clenching and tightening, caught her off guard. It was at this moment precisely that she regretted every unkind word she'd spewed to her mate, and she wanted Falconshade. She wanted him with her, forever. Then came another release.

"A she-cat!" Cherrynose squealed, "Oh, great Starclan, Whitefang she'd beautiful! Absolutely gorgeous!" Whitefang didn't bother straining to see her daughter; she was almost immediately brought to her side by Paledove. The contractions were immediate as well. Through the haze of blood and pain, Whitefang peered at her little daughter, already curled beside her son. Perfectly healthy. Perfect in every way. She was a little ball of dark ginger tabby, her paws and face a bright white. Whitefang breathed in deeply: she smelled like him. Finally, all the built up tension was gone: she was sore and tired and her eyes were strained and weak. She wished he were there.

"Another tom!" Shiverspots' voice was coming through a thick fog.

"The last one, Whitefang, I'm so proud of you." Paledove's voice was close to her ear. She pushed herself and opened her eyes again: her final baby was just like his grandmother, and surprisingly like his foster grandfather. Both Addershriek and Briarheart had rich, dark brown tabby pelts just like his. As the crowds of she-cats swarmed her, the white noise made her sleepy. Timbermask had entered, and was gazing down proudly as if they were _his_ kits…Stonetail was gushing…Blueshine and Addershriek were beyond pleased…Rainwing crowed tat she was an aunt _twice_, while Bouncestrike reminded her she was yet to kit herself…

"Are you ready to name them?" She heard Timbermask ask. She shook her head groggily.

"In the morning…" She murmured, "The morning…"

"She's exhausted, everyone. Out!" Shiverspots mewed bossily, though Whitefang was thankful. She watched them leave, but Stormfall had pushed past his sister at the last second, hurrying to her side.

"Whitefang, does he know?" The gray tom asked softly, quickly.

"No," She breathed, "Find him. Tell him. He'll be waiting. And tell him…I love him. And that I never meant what I said. Please…" She closed her eyes, her body giving way to sleep.

"I will," He murmured.

"Out!" Shiverspots commanded.

"Tell him!' Whitefang pleaded.

"Of course," Stormfall replied. The loss of his presence resulted in a terse silence between the exhausted new mother and Timbermask. The other queens were outside, chattering quietly and excitedly as Badgerkit and Emberkit wasted their nervous energy on a seemingly endless game of mossball. Whitefang didn't know what to say to the pale brown tabby whose emerald gaze seemed to bore into her very sole, nor did she know what to make of the three, tiny, perfect bundles, _living bundles_ of fur that were contentedly nursing at her side. The sensation was strange but not unpleasant; it was when her feisty little brown tom nipped her that caused an awakening jolt. Timbermask coughed awkwardly: his gaze drifted from her to the kits, and in an instant it lit with a loving glow she'd never seen before.

"Great Starclan, do they look like you or what?" He chuckled, not tearing his eyes from them. A slow smile crept across his muzzle, and he leaned down to nuzzle one. Her first instinct, of course, was to hiss and scratch at the tom that _dared_ to touch the children that were not conceived by him, but his gentle stature eased her anxiety. And the kits _did_ look like her. Her daughter had the same head shape she recognized when she caught her reflection, and the white tom shared her pelt exactly, while the other had her body type. However, their scent was decidedly more Falconshade's. The strong jaws and broad shoulders of her sons were their father's, and the pelt of the brown tabby was identical to his grandmother's. She wondered what color their eyes were. She saw her parents in them too, though. Stonetail's thick, soft fur was clear in his granddaughter, and his grandsons' tails curled the exact same way. The she-kit had Paledove's dainty paws, and the sleek teardrop shaped face of each kit mirrored their pale silver grandmother.

"They are definitely family," Whitefang murmured, licking each one tenderly. The love she felt burn inside her chest was like nothing she'd ever known.

"You know," Timbermask mused, "The tabby tom looks like my father." Whitefang wanted to snap and say no, that he looked like his grandmother, her dear Briarheart. She stopped herself, though, for he could just as well be the grandson of the dark Shadowclan tabby tom.

"He does," She agreed quietly.

"But the she-cat is most certainly his," Falconshade said, referencing the litter's absent father. The barely detectable scorn in his voice shook Whitefang to her core.

"Now you listen here, they are not yours! They're his by blood and by heart and you know it!" She spat furiously, "If he could be here, he would! Be sure of _that_!" Timbermask shook his head.

"I didn't mean it like that, I'm sorry. I know they're his. I know he'll love them. But I can love them too, for the moment. For this moment, I'm their father."

Whitefang didn't protest; it was one night out of many. And she was too tired to argue. Curling up around her precious little angels, the warrior drifted off into a distant coma, the face of her mate floating in the back of her mind. How she wished he were there! A sudden warmth encased her, a wall of fur and powerful Shadowclan musk. _For one night, we are family._ Whitefang thought, barely conscious, as she recognized his touch. Timbermask lay beside her, and the nameless kits, throughout the night. _For one night…_

**_They have arrived!_ Naming will be next chapter. Think Whitefang and Falconshade will make up?**

**QOTD: What do y'all think of the kits? Timbermask and Whitefang? Falconshade and Whitefang? The fight? Tell me!**

**Man, we're coming up on the end. Or, at least, the end of _something_ and the begginning of something _else_. OOOOHHHH SPOOOKYYYYY**

**Ahahaha spooky is such a great word...**

**I'll see y'all soon! Hugsssssss to everyone!**

**~Bright**


	67. Choose

**LOL this has been sitting in my computer for a week...I kept thinking I'd posted it...oops.**

"Names?" Timbermask murmured sleepily. Whitefang had been lying about for hours, contemplating that very thing. Already the kits' personalities were beginning to show, and she loved each and every one of them. She only wished she could see their eyes. _No matter,_ she thought, _I'll manage._ Stormfall had come back late the night before, woken her, and relayed a message from Falconshade. He had said he loved her as well, that neither of them should've snapped that night and tensions were high…he told her he would visit as soon as possible and that he wished to be a family before the kits were old enough to ask questions about their parents. Stormfall had told him, in detail, what the kits looked like, and he had given his input on the names. Whitefang simply adored one of them and agreed to it right away. She wished there were some way to give the kits multiple names, but she knew that wasn't possible. Her babies would have lovely names though, she was sure of that.

"I've been thinking," Whitefang purred.

"And has _he_ added anything?" The tabby tom was still unused to so much talk about Falconshade. He was uncomfortable, but Whitefang was perfectly fine with it. It seemed fit that her three kits' true father should have some credit to the names.

"As a matter of fact he has. And I love one of them. It's perfect." She never thought she would use that word in reference to her kits, but they were worth it. Every syllable.

"And so?" Timbermask prodded teasingly, watching the kits squirm toward Whitefang in their thirst for milk.

"Wolfkit for the white tom," She said firmly, yet lovingly, as she nudged her son to her belly.

"Beautiful," Timbermask breathed, "He's a little warrior already! Did you see the way he pushed his brother yesterday?" Whitefang frowned.

"I won't encourage that behavior in my nest!" She scolded, "They'll learn to respect and cherish their siblings, Timbermask, not shove each other around!" He laughed.

"Alright, big mama, your nest your rules." He replied, "Names for the other two, though?" Whitefang cocked her head pensively after swatting at the tom playfully, and finally her gaze rested on her daughter.

"Blossomkit," She mewed softly, envisioning the cherry blossoms that fell, sweet and rosy, from the tree in the clearing. Her daughter had already shown that disposition, and the rosy tones of her ginger pelt made her mother think of drifting petals.

"And the little tabby?" Timbermask asked lovingly, gazing down at his foster son. Whitefang purred.

"Hazelkit!" She smiled, licking the little one's cheek.

"Wolfkit, Blossomkit, and Hazelkit. Great Starclan, they're just the most wonderful names. You're brilliant!" Timbermask exclaimed happily, planting a sloppy lick on Whitefang's cheek. She permitted it, too busy staring at her newly named kits to care. Duckflight and Cherrynose had been listening silently for a short time from their respective nests, over the rumbles of Doestep's snores, and they grinned.

"You two are too cute," Cherrynose giggled, rolling over, careful not to squash her roly-poly stomach, "And those names are simply fabulous!"

"Do they stand for anything?" Duckflight asked as she groomed a drowsy Badgerkit.

"Yeah, what do they mean, Whitefang?" Emberkit asked inquisitively, "Mother named me for my fur. And she said I was her 'spark of hope' and a 'burning beginning of rebellion' but I guess I didn't live up to that," He shrugged casually, "And Badgerkit looks like a badger, obviously."

"Hey!" The black and orange kit squeaked indignantly, "If it was up to me, I'd call you Stupid. Because you are!" Emberkit stuck his tongue out at the little she-cat, and Duckflight chided her.

"Don't say that!" She snapped, "That's not polite!"

"Fox dung!" Badgerkit spat. Cherrynose gasped, and Whitefang's eyes widened at the curse.

"Where did you learn that language young lady?" Duckflight thundered furiously.

"Papa said it when he stubbed his toe on a rock yesterday," Badgerkit mumbled, abashed by the harsh reprimand.

"That tom is gonna get a piece of my mind, I swear to Starclan!" The dark orange queen growled, and no one in the nursery doubted her oath. Whitefang tried to keep herself from laughing; the rage of Duckflight's face was terribly amusing.

"Anyway, what do they mean?" Cherrynose mewed, bringing everyone's attention back to the previous topic.

"Well, Wolfkit is from legend. You know, Whitefang, warrior of the wolves. He's my little fighter, my spirit guardian and token from Starclan," She smiled sweetly down at the little tom as he rolled over with a squeak, "And Blossomkit is from the cherry tree. It's, ah, got a very special meaning to me. And Hazelkit, well, it was the name favored by a very important cat in my life." The she-cats nodded, assuming it was Swanmist or one of her parents. Maybe even Timbermask. But Whitefang remembered brainstorming kit names with Falconshade down by the lakeshore. She remembered him ticking off each and every name Briarheart had approved because she'd hated her own and hadn't wanted it passed on. Hazelkit was the first on that list, and Whitefang had fallen in love with it instantly. And he looked just like his grandmother.

"We're here to visit!" Came the high, pleasant chirp of Blueshine as she stepped through the entrance to the nursery. Addershriek followed her closely, and Stonetail and Paledove, the latter of whom had already met her grandkits, entered as well.

"Goodness, they're lovely!" Blueshine exclaimed, mint green eyes wide, her silver-blue pelt fluffed with excitement. Whitefang noticed her father no longer stared at the former queen, or her mate, with that weird look he'd worn before. She was glad.

"Aren't they?" Paledove gushed.

"Beautiful!" Timbermask added excitedly.

"He looks just like you," Stonetail murmured gently, gesturing to Wolfkit and looking up at his extremely happy daughter.

"And look darling! He looks like you!" Blueshine cheered, pointing eagerly to Hazelkit. Addershriek smiled slowly, and Whitefang grew nervous, but his hazel gaze was softer, and warmer, than that of his mate. He looked at Whitefang, and she was, disturbingly enough, reminded of her crush of him as an apprentice, and his appearance in her dream.

"I'm proud of you, apprentice," He said gruffly. As his mate was distracted, he leaned down to whisper in her ear: "You've made all of us proud. And not just about the kits, Whitefang. You were a worthy cat from the moment you were born. I'm glad they see it now." She grinned and winked at him, breathing a quick 'thank you' as he stepped away. Timbermask was busy describing the _agony_ of waiting to be let into the nursery, and she snorted as she compared it to the pain of kitbirth. _Moron doesn't know what pain is until he's passed a kitten through his-_

"So what are their names?" Paledove asked. Whitefang was growing tired of the questions.

"Wolfkit, Blossomkit, and Hazelkit." She said, pointing to each in turn.

"Wonderful!" Stonetail purred. Blueshine began to tear up.

"I never thought my little Timbermask would _ever_ have kits after-" Paledove shut her up with a crystalline blue glare. She did not wish to relive the death of her daughter at this moment. Blueshine took the hit, and quickly tore herself and her mate from the scene. Whitefang sighed in relief when they left, and Timbermask slumped next to her in exhaustion.

"Does she get to you, too?" She grunted irritably once her parents exited as well.

"Always has," He mumbled, leaning over to lick the tufted head of his foster daughter, "I can't wait until they open their eyes."

"I wonder what color they'll be," She mused. She and Timbermask lay together for the rest of the day, dawn til dusk, giggling over the strange combinations of eye colors the kittens could have. Once they'd reached violet, however, Whitefang had dozed off.

* * *

><p>"Good morning, how's the new mother?" A sweet voice chimed from beside Whitefang's nest. She opened her eyes slowly and yawned. Stretching, she purred:<p>

"I'm fine, and yourself?"

"Same as ever. Dead." The voice replied. Whitefang whipped her head around and found herself face to face with a pair of large turquoise eyes, shining bright in a face of black and orange.

"Shyfawn!" Whitefang shrieked, paws scrambling against the mossy bottom of her nest, gathering her kits beneath her. But her kits weren't by her side.

"Looking for something?" And innocent voice asked from behind her. Turning quickly, Whitefang saw Goldenfrost, Blossomkit hanging from her jaws, whining.

"B-but you're dead! You're both dead!" She cried frantically, turning to look at both former medicine cats.

"So what?" Goldenfrost mewed, "So is he." To her right, Darkclaw stepped from the shadows, clutching Hazelkit.

"And you can't forget about _her_," He said around the kit fur in his mouth. Between them, a faint silver-white glow emanated from the dark. Her sister stepped out of the darkness, pale green eyes glowing as she stared at Whitefang, carrying Wolfkit. She put the tiny tom down to speak, and he landed with a soft thump on the ground.

"Do you believe him?" She whispered. It had been so, so long since she'd heard her sister…seen her, too. It was all so real. Far too real.

"Swanmist-" She choked.

"Do you believe what he said? The words of a murder, do you take them over mine? Your flesh and blood?" The white and silver swirled she-cat's voice was pained, strained with the weight of the words she carried, lodged in her throat.

"Swanmist, I-"

"Just answer me, Whitefang. I am your sister, and I deserve the truth. Do you truly think my wish was selfish? To be avenged? When we promised each other forever, and yet I was torn from life when there was so much left to live for? Was it _selfish_ to want justice for being slayed by a coward who ran from the scene? I had a mate, I was trying for more kits, I had our parents, I had _you_. Does that not deserve righteous retribution? Answer me!" He sister was staring her down as she had many times before.

"My kits," Whitefang managed, "Why take them from me?" She couldn't bear to answer the question she was avoiding, and had been.

"Mine were taken as well," Swanmist said simply, not answering.

"This isn't fair!" Whitefang protested.

"Was it fair that my _three_ babies died before they'd formed minds and faces? You don't know what it was like, sister, to bury three bodies that did not resemble bodies or kits at all, and yet know what they could've been. Now answer me, do you believe him? Him over me?" Swanmist pressed, taking a step forward. Rosedust appeared behind her and snatched up Wolfkit as he let out a miserable cry. Her heart couldn't bear it.

"That isn't a fair question," Her voice was shaking with nervous laughter as she answered Swanmist. _She's my sister, yet why do I fear her? Do I fear her, or is it guilt? Do I fear judgment?_

"Oh, but nothing in life is _fair_, Whitefang." The Starclan warrior took another step forward.

"I miss you," Whitefang murmured, breathing in the long gone scent she'd nearly forgotten, "I miss you and I love you. But I love him, too. Don't make me choose. Please."

"Yet you must choose," Swanmist said, "And if you choose well, my dear, you might just change the river." Whitefang shuddered. _Toss a pebble in the river the current stays the same._

"There is no right, no wrong. I love you both!" Whitefang cried.

"Whitefang," Swanmist whispered, tears welling in her eyes.

"Swanmist!" Whitefang gasped as the starlight that illuminated the other she-cat's pelt began to fade, somehow taking the kits with her.

"Please," The silver and white warrior begged, "Please, answer me!"

"I was wrong!" Whitefang burst out, "I was wrong and foolish, I broke it, Swanmist! I broke the promise, you deserved more! I'm so so sorry, Swanmist please don't go! Don't take them, too! I need you, I owe it to you! You're my sister, my best friend! You should be by my side Swanmist, I'm sorry! Isn't sorry good enough? I love him too!" Whitefang implored.

"It's too late, then. You've chosen." Swanmist wept, silver tears dripping down her cheeks. The nursery wall was becoming visible as she faded faster.

"I can't choose! I don't have to! Forgive me, sister, please!" She wailed, "This isn't fair!"

"Life isn't fair," Swanmist whispered, throat hoarse and scratchy. Whitefang desperately tried to run to her sister, but she'd already vanished, taking the children with her.

"Swanmist!" Whitefang howled, "My kits!"

* * *

><p>"Whitefang! The kits are fine, wake up, wake up!" Timbermask's voice shook her from her fantasies.<p>

"She took them! all of them! Said…said I have to choose…" She panted, dripping with sweat. He stayed by her side.

"They're right here, all three…they're fine…" He soothed, rocking her back and forth gently as she rested her head on his shoulder, stunned and shaking.

"Gone…they were gone, Timbermask! She said it's too late…" Whitefang sobbed, pressing her tear-streaked face into his fur.

"Baby, baby…" He mewed, at a loss for what else to say. Had it been any other time, she would've smacked him for calling her "Baby" but right now she needed it. Because he wasn't here, the one she wanted. "Who took them? Who told you to choose?"

"S-Swanmist," Whitefang whimpered. Timbermask sat in silence for a moment, at a loss for words.

"But she's not here now. The kits are with us; we'll keep them safe. She's gone; she won't take them…you don't have to choose anything, Whitefang, just breathe. She's dead. She won't be taking anything." He murmured gently. _She's already taken my mind, _Whitefang thought, _I'm so sorry. I miss you. I love you: you're my sister and my best friend. But…I can't choose. And…I broke it. A promise. Something I can never keep…please forgive me._

**Poor baby...**

**All you WhiteXTimber fans, I guess this chapter was a gold mine...personally, Falconshade is bae, but whatever. Timber just deserves love that someone like Whitefang can't give him.**

**QOTD: Kit names: good? I know you wanted one named Briar, but it just didn't seem right. Do you still approve? I find them delightful.**

**Some Falconshade yumminess coming up soon, as well as the big *cue the gasps* EYE COLOR REVEAL! Blue? Gold? Green like Briarheart's? Blue like Paledove's? NEXT TIME WE FIND OUT!**

**~Bright**


	68. Sweat

**Hey y'all! After a loooong absence, here's another chapter. We're coming to another climax soon!**

"Mother!" A small squeak woke Whitefang from her peaceful slumber, a squeak she'd come to know well. Ever since the kits had opened their eyes so many weeks ago, they wouldn't stop talking about everything they've seen.

"Yes, Wolfkit, darling?" She mumbled, ears twitching with amusement. Her afternoon nap was a ritual; she'd adopted it solely because of the young kits. But now they used their time instead to prance about and make discoveries.

"What is this called?" Her son asked, prodding her. Whitefang opened her eyes, and found herself peering into a pair of blue orbs. It still startled her, how much Wolfkit looked like his father. Their eyes were the same: bright, Greenleaf-sky blue. Wolfkit was the biggest of the three, and he was adventurous as well. His sister was more mellow, easygoing and gentle than her brother. She had her father's temperament, while Wolfkit was as much like his mother in personality as he was his father's son in looks. Whitefang was still just so happy the little white tom wasn't deaf. Shiverspots had warned her: white cats with blue eyes were, more often than not, deaf, but Whitefang had refused to believe her son wouldn't be able to hear. And she'd been right. Deep in her heart, Whitefang knew that had Wolfkit been deaf, she would've loved him all the same. But it comforted her to know that her feisty little tiger would be able to live the normal life of a warrior that she wished for him to enjoy. So far, he was loving every second of it.

"What is what, dear?" Whitefang mumbled sleepily.

"This!" Wolfkit mewed, pushing a bright blue feather towards his mother. She choked back a laugh. Her son found everything fascinating.

"That's a feather, sweetheart." Whitefang purred, suddenly transported back to the days when she would explain what feathers were to Rosekit and Pinekit. Now the two were Rosefoot and Pinetail, their warrior ceremony having been just three days ago. Lightheart and Rosefoot could now publicly display their affection, and Dawnstrike watched the gold and white warrior's moves very closely; he was rather protective of his only daughter.

"A feather?" Wolfkit repeated, poking the blue feather curiously. He prodded into the air, where it lazily drifted back down into the nest. "Where do feathers come from?"

"They come from birds," Whitefang explained patiently, "Because they help birds fly. Flying is when something goes through the sky, and can stay up in the air without falling." Wolfkit listened intently.

"Can cats fly?" He asked.

"No, cats can't fly." Whitefang laughed, "And I wouldn't try, if I were you. Now, where is your brother? And your sister?"

"Blossomkit and Hazelkit are visiting the elders. They wanted to hear stories, but I've heard them all already!" The little white tom said proudly, puffing out his chest.

"Wow! All of them?" Whitefang gasped, her eyes wide. She tried to stifle the laughter threatening to bubble up and out of her throat.

"All of them!" Wolfkit replied, grinning, "Stonetail says I must be the wisest kit in all the Clans if I've heard every single story." Stonetail and Paledove doted upon their grandkits, taking every opportunity to play with them, cuddle with them, or even just complement their every move. Whitefang didn't mind, but se didn't want her kits to be _too _spoiled.

"Well, have you asked Timbermask to tell you any of _his_ stories?" Whitefang asked. She refused to say 'your father' or 'Papa' when referring to the pale brown tabby. It was fine for others to call him that, but to her it felt like a lie. Because it was. And lies tasted sour on her tongue. Whitefang wanted to provide the truth for her kits, and she figured if _she_ never called Timbermask their father, then technically she wouldn't be lying. Just sort of obscuring the full truth. That's all.

"I haven't! Does Daddy have good stories?" Wolfkit wondered, blue eyes wide. Hearing her kit, who looked so much like Falconshade, call Timbermask 'Daddy' hurt Whitefang like claws across her heart.

"Yes, he does have good stories," Whitefang choked out, "Go on, ask him to tell you about the time when your Auntie-" She paused. She hadn't told the kittens that they had an auntie Swanmist yet. She wasn't sure if she ever could. It would just be…too painful. They didn't _need_ to know about her sister, did they? Her parents had gotten good at not mentioning their dead daughter, and in a way they'd all moved on. All except for Whitefang.

_Swanmist…_ she thought miserably, _Why is this all so difficult? Why can't life be normal? Or simple?_

"About when what happened, Mama?" Wolfkit asked.

"About when your Auntie Rainwing got her paws stuck in the marsh and Addershriek had to pull her out," Whitefang covered for herself quickly.

"Ok!" Wolfkit said cheerfully, darting out of the nursery. He paused at the entrance, and ran back to Whitefang. He nuzzled her under her chin with his fluffy little white head, and his throbbing purr echoed in her chest.

"I love you, Mama," Wolfkit mewed sweetly.

"I love you too, baby." Whitefang murmured, licking his cheek. Before he ran off to find Timbermask, her little kit snatched up his blue feather and trotted triumphantly out of the nursery. Whitefang watched him go, running out into the heavy drizzle, with misty eyes. Her little babies were getting so big. And she hadn't seen Falconshade in so long. The kits were nearly two moons old, and Whitefang was desperately missing her mate, who she hadn't spoken to in person since days before the birth of their kittens. Standing up, Whitefang shook the sleep from her pelt. She would visit him tonight, and leave the kits with Cherrynose as she went to a 'walk'. No one could begrudge a hardworking queen at least a _little_ alone time.

"Mama, Mama!" Blossomkit was racing toward Whitefang, her ginger pelt so much like her father's blazing, even in the lack of sunlight. Rain slid easily over her pelt, and Whitefang admired the sleek Riverclan quality. Her daughter's white paws pitter pattered on the ground, and her eyes, a green that's a lovely mixture of Greenleaf-sky blue and gold, and they shone like fresh grass coated in sweet dew. Her brother, Hazelkit, hurried after her, and his eyes were golden, identical to Whitefang's.

"Hello my little angels, Wolfkit told me you were visiting the elders this morning!" The queen purred, nuzzling her kittens. The rain didn't seem to bother them. It had been down pouring all week.

"Their stories are the best, Mother!" Hazelkit squeaked enthusiastically, his tail waving excitedly in the hot, humid air.

"Aren't they?" Whitefang agreed, "Which ones did you hear today?"

"One about you when you were a kit, Mama!" Blossomkit squealed, "But, Mama…you never told us you had a sister."

Whitefang stared at them in shock: "W-what?"

"You never told us you had a sister," Hazelkit repeated, concerned, "Why not, Mama?"

"Because, sweetheart," Whitefang said quietly, regaining her composure, "You've never met your Auntie Swanmist. And you won't meet her for a long, long time." Whitefang sat down with a sigh. The kits snuggled up beside her, listening intently, their little eyes wide. Fat water droplets slid down their faces, reminding her of tears. But her kits weren't crying. If it were up to her, they would never have to cry in their lives.

"Well, your Auntie Swanmist is-" She began, only to be cut off by a loud call.

"Whitefang!" Timbermask meowed, green eyes shining as he padded over with Wolfkit by his side.

"Hello," Whitefang said, reaching up to touch his cheek gently with her nose. It was slick with rain, and she wondered why they were all still out in the open.

"What's going on here?" Timbermask asked, looking down at the kits.

"Mother's going to tell us about our Auntie Swanmist and why we can't meet her just yet," Hazelkit explained patiently to his foster father. Timbermask glanced at Whitefang nervously and she nodded. Taking a deep breath, the pale tabby sat down beside her, and Wolfkit joined his siblings.

"Your Auntie Swanmist was my sister," Whitefang began unsteadily. She'd had that dream again last night. The one where Swanmist came to the nursery. But it had been different this time, and it scared her more than ever. Her choices scared her. With another deep breath, she continued: "And she was the best friend I ever had. She was my secret keeper, my guardian angel, my vault. But then she died. She died in a…border skirmish. I was very upset for a long, long time. But I know she's watching over all of us, and that no matter what, she loves you." Whitefang knew Swanmist loved the kits. Though the dream was only a dream, Swanmist had taken the kits to protect them. Protect them from…Whitefang couldn't bear to think about it any longer.

"Is she watching us right now?" Blossomkit asked eagerly.

"Yes, little ones, she's always watching." Timbermask purred gently.

"Does she know that we love her, too?" Hazelkit mewed solemnly, staring up at the cloudy, dripping sky. He blinked raindrops from her eyes and tasted one on his tongue.

"She does now." Timbermask smiled at his foster son, nuzzling him lovingly.

"I-I think I need some air." Whitefang coughed, padding away quickly. She disappeared through the tunnel and raced out of camp, feeling the fresh forest air on her face, something she hadn't felt in nearly a moon. She knew where her paws were taking her.

Sitting on the border, she waited patiently. It wasn't nearly sunset, but she knew he would come. He always did.

"Whitefang?" His voice rang through the trees, "What're you doing here? It's sun high. Not that I can really tell…"

"I needed to see you," She said softly, watching him. Just the sight of him made her breathless. Muscles rippled beneath his wet, dark ginger tabby pelt as he came closer. They hadn't spoken in more than a moon.

"How are they?" Falconshade asked nervously, "What do they look like? What have you named them? What are they like?" Whitefang smiled.

"They're fine. Curious, talkative, wild, and fine. There's Wolfkit, Blossomkit, and Hazelkit. Wolfkit's a little warrior: he looks like you, with your eyes, but he acts like me. He's pure white and a bundle of questions and energy. His sister is far gentler, like you. That's Blossomkit. She's dark ginger with white paws, and her eyes are the loveliest shade of green, like new grass in the sunlight. Hazelkit is just like your mother. But his eyes are gold. He's sweet and quiet, rather mellow. But he's easily excited. You'll love them." She meowed wistfully.

"And us? How are we?" Falconshade asked, taking a step closer. He looked worried, wary that she might run off again. Her heart ached for him, a longing as deep and old as time.

"Better than ever before," Whitefang said sincerely, pressing her face into his shoulder. The urge to relay her dreams to him was quelled when she remembered their last spat. That was a subject she would not mention again.

"I'm glad," He purred, "I missed you so much, Whitefang."

"And I you," She replied. They stood in silence for a moment, drinking in each other's presence. The afternoon was warm, wet and quiet; birds chirped less in the rain and bugs were too content in the moist air to think about making a ruckus.

"I suppose you don't want me to move in just yet," Falconshade said fretfully, disturbing the silence. Whitefang sighed.

"They've just opened their eyes and gotten to know the Clan, my love. A sudden change in their new world might upset them." She explained easily, gently, as if she were speaking to her kits.

"But everything is new! What harm could this new information do?" Falconshade asked, his eyes wide and begging, "for so long, I couldn't join you at home because I was so busy in Riverclan…now when I most want to, you don't want me to stay."

"I want you to stay! Believe me, I want you to. But I don't know if T-" Whitefang stopped herself immediately. _Was I really going to say that?_

"If what?" Falconshade asked. He hadn't picked up on her little slip. She was terribly confused, her thoughts in a whirl. _I was going to say that Timbermask may not be ready. But why should it matter? He's not the kits' father, nor will he ever be. Why should I care? And yet…I think I do. Why? Could I feel bad for him? He's so lonely…I think that's it. Maybe we are friends, now. Not that I ever thought we would be. Could I have forgiven him?_

"I don't know if my parents are prepared to welcome a new face. And the kits…just earlier today they learned they have a dead Auntie. What would they think when they realize that you…" She didn't have the heart to finish that sentence, because Falconshade's eyes were already welling with tears. The salty liquid mixed with the fresh rainwater, running in frantic rivulets down his face.

"I should've never joined that battle," He whispered, "That stupid border skirmish. So dark, so flooded…I didn't know where I was going or what I was doing. And the next thing I know, I've killed someone. Great Starclan, I'm so sorry I screwed up your life, Whitefang. Without me it might've been perfect." Whitefang's golden eyes widened.

"It is perfect," Whitefang mewed, "My life is absolutely perfect! You haven't ruined my life, Falconshade, you've filled it with love. My sister…she'll understand, won't she? It was a terrible accident, followed by a fortunate coincidence that not even Starclan could've predicted, right? I have beautiful kits, a wonderful mate, and my friends and family are always with me. Darling, this is everything I've ever dreamed of. You made those dreams a reality." She licked his cheek lovingly, and he softened.

"And you've brought more light into my life than the sun ever could," Falconshade murmured gratefully. Whitefang glanced at the sky; the faint sun that shown behind the clouds was beginning to fall behind the lush canopy, casting dim, flickering shadows across the sodden ground.

"I should head home. They'll be wondering where I went…" She sighed.

"Give the kits extra love from me," Falconshade smiled sadly, "I want to be their father as soon as possible."

"I know, and I will. I love you!" Whitefang said emphatically as she pulled away.

"I love you too." Falconshade called as she padded off into the forest.

* * *

><p>"Wolfkit, get off of your sister. No, off! Don't cuff her ears, Wolfkit or I'll have you plucking ticks! Hazelkit, did you finish your supper? Don't you lie to me, mister. Blossomkit, sweetheart, stop pulling your brother's whiskers. I'm sure he didn't hit you that hard. And put that moss ball away!" The nightly commotion of trying to settle the kits into the nest was ongoing. By the time Whitefang had gotten each one sufficiently calm and clean, she herself was exhausted beyond belief. She watched them fall asleep, one by one. Wolfkit sprawled out across a stretch of cool moss, while Hazelkit and Blossomkit curled up side by side. In the nest across the nursery, Badgerkit argued with her mother incessantly. Whitefang was surprised their voices hadn't woken her kits yet.<p>

"But Emberpaw gets to stay up late!" She complained, referencing the newly made apprentice who was, for a short time, her foster littermate. Duckflight sighed.

"He's an apprentice, sweetie, and you're still just a kit. While you sleep in my nest, I make the rules! Now go to sleep!" The dark ginger queen said irritably.

"I can't wait 'til I'm and apprentice!" Badgerkit whined loudly.

"Hush!" Cherrynose snapped from the nest beside Whitefang's. Late in her pregnancy, the tortie was prone to bouts of hormonal mood swings. She'd been perfectly pleasant just moments before. And, of course, Doestep was still snoring in the corner, completely undisturbed. Like mother, like daughter. Whitefang smiled to herself and lay down beside her kits, closing her eyes after wrapping her tail about them.

"Goodnight," She murmured, her voice lost in the noise of the unending spat behind her.

She was standing on the battlefield. _Not again…_But this time, she did not relive her sister's dying words. No, she saw herself on the ground beside Swanmist's still warm corpse.

_The Whitefang on the ground was silent, rocking back and forth, cradling her sister's limp head in her forepaws._

_"Whitefang, Whitefang get up. We have to bring her body back." Bouncestrike whispered in the white warrior's ear, though his voice shook with sorrow._

_"No! She-she can walk!" the past Whitefang hissed, "Come on, Swanmist. Get up. You can get up." She sobbed, nudging her sister's body gently._

_"She's dead, Whitefang." Grayshadow meowed bluntly, voice stunted with grief._

_"No! No! Swanmist isn't dead! She can't be dead! She can walk, she…can walk…" the past Whitefang wailed, prodding at what was Swanmist in vain._

_"Whitefang, let's bring your sister home. She needs help to get home, Whitefang." Sharpcloud's voice pierced through the haze that was what remained of her thoughts._

_"Home…Swanmist can walk…" She insisted desperately._

_"Swanmist needs your help to bring her home," Sharpcloud choked._

_"I-I will carry m-my sister," Past Whitefang meowed._

_"Of course you will." Bouncestrike soothed._

_"I-I promised her…avenge…I promised…she can't be dead." The white warrior stuttered, stumbling as Sharpcloud and Bouncestrike lifted her to her paws. Kestrelwind had sunk to the ground, body quivering. As Bouncestrike and Sharpcloud lifted the body to her shoulder, past Whitefang shuddered. It was as if her heart had torn in two, and one half had been trampled and scarred by an army of warriors who knew no mercy. _

Was this really who I was? _Present Whitefang wondered as she watched herself stumble away, the body of her sister heavy across her back. _Could I have forgotten my grief so easily, could I have forgotten my promise? My sister? _She sunk to the ground. It was still raining. She couldn't escape the stormy gloom in the dream-world either. Suddenly, a whiteness shone through the dark, and a ghostly apparition appeared. It was Swanmist…and yet it was not. It was not the sister who appeared in other dreams, the sister whose green eyes sparkled and whose smile could light up the dark like a bolt of lightning. No, this was a corpse. The eyes were open but unseeing, clouded and dim. Her pelt was matted and clumped, the fur having fallen out in several places. The flesh was rotting, and it smelled rancid. In some places, she could see bone. The corpse did not bleed from it's open battle wounds, nor from its eroded figure. Dirt flaked off of the mangy fur, and in the slack-jawed mouth a gray, dead tongue lolled aimlessly. Suddenly, a flood of ants and cockroaches spilled from the corpse's empty maw; they scampered over once-sharp teeth and lept from the side of the mouth like tiny acrobats, their many legs scuttling over dead surfaces without a care. Whitefang bent over in horror and wretched. The corpse spoke, its voice a mere whisper drowned out by the rain and thunder, was cold and dark; it was an echo of the cat who once was. _

"_Whitefang," It spoke softly, longingly, "Do you remember me?"_

"_Swanmist-" Whitefang coughed, wiping the vomit from her mouth only to hurl again when she noticed the tree roots sprouting from the corpse's stomach wound._

"_I was your sister, Whitefang…I was '__the best friend you ever had. I was your secret keeper, your guardian angel, your vault'. Have you forgotten me?" The whisper was sad and lonely, and it broke Whitefang's aching heart._

"_No, I haven't…" She gasped, "Never would I-"_

"_But you've abandoned me, Whitefang…" The corpse shifted, revealing a rat nestled between its shoulder blades, nibbling eagerly at the bare bone of the neck. Whitefang dry heaved, her head spinning. "You've forgotten your sister."_

"_No-" Whitefang choked._

"_Your sister…" The corpse sighed heavily, collapsing on the bloodstained battleground. It disappeared in a blinding flash of lightning. As soon as it had gone, the voices came._

"_Come on, slow slug!"_

"_"I'm sorry." Swankit murmured. "For just sitting there while they hurt you. It wasn't right. No one deserves that. You forgive me?"_

"_I'll always be here for you."_

"_Betcha can't catch me!"_

"_Please, Whitekit, just run away! Go!"_

"_You can't push my sister around like that!"_

"_How dare he! The mouse-brained, nasty ol' smelly badger-y fish breath! He should've never been kitted. Him and his stinkin' no-good littermates. They're not cats! They're rats in cat's fur."_

"_Whatever they do, whatever they say, whatever Shadowclan thinks, I'll always be here for you. Alright?"_

"_I wanted to help 'cause I love you. I mean, a cat only ever __has__ one sister."_

"_Never hurt each other again. Promise?"_

"_Sisters forever."_

"_Your promises are special, Whitefang. You __always__ keep your promises."_

"_I'm pregnant."_

_"Whitefang...I buried them."_

_"Whitefang, I had too...I don't know what happened, Whitefang, but they were so small..."_

_"What? I'm not falling for any roguish tricks of yours, Whitefang! I smell bad enough!"_

_"You'll find some cat someday, be it Appleclaw or not."_

"_Of course Whitefang deserves Stormpaw! She'll be a wonderful mentor!"_

"_You will be loved, Whitefang, I swear it."_

"_Avenge me…"_

_Her sister's voice awakened feeling Whitefang had pushed away, and now she felt them all again. The pain, the anger, the sorrow, the horror. They flooded into her, wracking her body with such emotion she doubled over. But more voices echoed from the darkness._

"_You promised, Whitefang. You promised." They seemed to call out to her._

"_I know I promised! But does all happiness come at a price?" She cried from her place on the ground, too ill to move, "My mate, my kits, my parents…my life! I'm finally happy! I have everything I've ever wanted, and don't I deserve it?" She sounded selfish, and she hated it. But all she said was true._

_The voices replied immediately: "Your sister paid the ultimate price. And now you bask in the glory of life as she wanders the skies."_

"_I-I can't kill him. I _love _him! He's the father of my kits, my beautiful kits…he makes me complete! Please, have mercy!" She was in tears now._

"_You promised."_

"_I take it back! I take it all back!"_

"_You promised!" They roared. Whitefang collapsed in sobs upon the ground._

I promised. I-I'm so selfish. Swanmist had her perfect life torn from her, torn from her as she defended her Clan. And yet I refuse to give mine up. My kits…my kits would be better off without such a terrible mother. I'm my mother-so attached to the idea of perfection. I'm a monster. I'm the one who destroyed this, not Falconshade. It isn't his fault. I promised vengeance… _Whitefang thought bitterly, hiding from the voices._

* * *

><p>She woke in a cold sweat.<p>

**Whitefang, Whitefang...what will you do now?**

**You may not like what comes next, guys, because I've decided next chapter is a big big big scene.**

**QOTD: Good eye colors? Cute kits? Thoughts on W****hitefang's predicament?**

**Next chapter should be up relatively soon! See y'all then!**

**~Bright**


	69. Pebble

**Hey guys, so i'm sorry but this is pretty plot-essential too...**

Whitefang was awake. Her heart was pounding faster than a squirrel dashing across pine branches in the treetops like little acrobats; her pulse was throbbing and wild. Her head was spinning, her throat was dry and sore, her tongue cracked. The rain pounded outside, keeping time with her racing thoughts. Her eyes were wide and wary, her ears twitched at the slightest sounds coming from the nursery and beyond. Her nerves were frayed and her heart fraught with everything she'd kept hidden away.

"Swanmist," She rasped, the very name choking her. Her paws churned the moss like anxious rabbits, fighting for escape from the imminent-

"Mama?" A small voice mewed drowsily. It was still the middle of the night, and her nightmares had caused her son to stir. Whitefang forced herself to calm down before replying.

"Yes, darling, I'm right here." She said gently, voice still shaking.

"Are you okay?" Hazelkit asked, blinking his big golden eyes and staring at his mother. His gaze was so much like Stonetail's…Whitefang leaned down to nuzzle her son, who snuggled closer to her side, a gentle, throbbing purr shaking his small body. His pelt, a dark, rich brown with tabby stripes, melded with the flickering shadows that laced the nursery. Whitefang couldn't help but notice that they looked like fault-lines.

"I'm alright sweetheart, go back to sleep." Whitefang consoled, her heart breaking. _He'd be so much better off…_It was at that moment that she realized what she had to do. She waited patiently for her son to fall back asleep, watching his tiny flanks rise and fall with the slow, steady pattern of his breathing. Soon, once he no longer stirred, she stood up. _Toss a pebble in a river, the current stays the same. There's no boulder large enough for my river. The current stays the same. But there may be something…my river…_

"Mother, where are you going?" Blossomkit squeaked, waking and watching as Whitefang made her way over to the entrance to the nursery. She turned, and gazed down at her little daughter. So small, so sweet, so innocent. So precious.

"I'm just going out," She murmured, "Go back to sleep, sweetheart."

"Out where? Can I come with you?" Blossomkit mewed, sitting up in their nest. Her brothers slept deeply, not stirring.

"No, little one, you can't come with me. This is something Mama has to do alone." Whitefang said softly.

"Well…" Blossomkit cocked her head to the side, thinking, "When will you be back?" Whitefang didn't answer her. Blossomkit grew frantic, her green eyes bright and wild.

"Mama, you're coming back aren't you? Don't you love me? Us?" She cried. Upset, Whitefang returned to her kit, wrapping herself about the tiny she-cat tightly.

"Of course I love _all_ of you. I'll always be with you, dear heart. Mama will always love you, no matter what." She whispered, a ripe, salty tear coursing down her cheek and nestling itself in the soft ginger fur of Blossomkit's head.

"Always?" Blossomkit asked, tiny white paws kneading her mother's tail anxiously.

"Forever and always, I promise." Whitefang choked, her body shuddering as she struggled to contain her tears. Lightning flashed outside, and distant thunder rumbled over the constant down pour streaming from the dense gray clouds. She felt as though her eyes, too, were dark, heavy, and full of rain.

"Okay," Blossomkit whispered. Whitefang let go of her, and stood up once again. As she padded to the entrance, Blossomkit called after her:

"I love you, Mama!"

Whitefang turned and glanced at her tiny daughter, whose bright green eyes shone bright in the darkness of the nursery.

"I love you, too." She whispered. Then, she stepped out into the pelting rain. It pierced her fur, no longer large soft droplets of warm sky-water, but instead they'd become cold, hard pebbles. They burst into being on her skin, flooding her pelt with chilling moisture.

Whitefang padded through camp with heavy steps, staring at each and every thing individually, as if to inscribe it in her mind indefinitely. She poked her head inside the warrior's den, and whispered a soft, sweet goodbye to her parents. And to Timbermask.

She retracted her head from the warm, dry den and continued on her journey. The sloshing sounds of her paw steps were drowned out by the patter of rain against the thick foliage, and the roaring thunder that sounded in the distance. Every so often, lightning would streak across the inky darkness to illuminate the forest, and the purple-white light would remind her of the spectral mist, the corpse of her sister, and the chorus of voices. She would march on.

The forest was eerily beautiful at night but tonight the storm made it eerily frightening. With every step, Whitefang glanced over her shoulder. She wandered the paths like she didn't know where she was headed. But she did.

When she got to the river, it struck her. The reality of what she was going to do. The gushing, flowing bubbling river, was swollen with rainwater. It had been pouring for weeks. The once crystalline water was dark with sediments; it swirled viciously, threatening to drag anything and everything to a watery grave. _A watery grave…_ Whitefang's heart pounded furiously, in sync with the violent, churning waves that crashed upon the rapidly eroding shore. The river that had once quelled her thirst, the river she had gone to for the continuation of life; it had once supplied her with strength-giving vitality. Now, she would feed it her soul, her grief. Her pain would be washed away with the rest of the unwanted scraps that fell in the river.

Her heart, it ached and groaned with every step she took toward that raging water. It whined and cried out against her: Don't do it! Don't give yourself up, don't give in! There's so much to live for! Think of your kits, think of your mate. Just yesterday, just moments ago you promised forever. Don't you keep your promises?

"I promised her first," Whitefang whispered, consumed by raw emotion, "I promised her vengeance, and I never delivered. I'm broken."

Stay! Her heart pleaded with her, like a bumbling tom on her knees with desperation: Stay with them, follow me! But her mind was too strong, too stubborn to give in to such guilty desires. Her forepaw hovered over the surface of the lake as rain drenched her fur and dark waves lapping hungrily against the pad of her foot.

"Forgive me, my darlings," Whitefang said softly, the faces of those she was leaving behind flashing across her hazy vision. It ended with Falconshade, and his soul-searching eyes. Blue as the Greenleaf sky, and just a beautiful. "I love you."

She fell.

She hit the river with a smack, and felt her rips crack on impact. She was thrown to and fro, submerged and released indefinitely among the battling breakers. They fought each other for her, each one with a desire to be the force that tore her soul, her life. Finally, one wild whitecap sunk her beneath the tumultuous surface and held her there.

Battered by stones, her broken body sunk deeper and deeper, carried by the surging, powerful current. _Maybe I can't change the current,_ She thought wildly, _Maybe I threw myself in for no reason. Maybe I'm not the boulder. Maybe I'm the pebble._ Addershriek appeared in her mind, his eyes empty and his voice cold: _There is little time for you._ She thrashed against the surf, eyes widening in the murky blackness, her lungs shrinking. _It's too late: is this my time? Is this my legacy? Forgive me, Hollowstar, for my cowardice. Forgive me, Whitefang, for staining your namesake. Forgive me, my love, for widowing you. Forgive me, my darlings, for leaving you alone in a motherless world. My sister, is this what you wanted? _Her eyes were becoming heavier, her body slower as she fought the river.

_I'm dying_. She realized as she sunk deeper and her flank scraped the stony bottom of the river. Her pulse had slowed to an ominous thump…thump…thump…_I'm dying. What is it like? Do I just all of sudden stop living? Does my heart stop, and do I have a few moments of thought left? Do I fall asleep? Pass out? Or do I-_ Her brain shut down. There was no blood flow. Her heart had pumped its last bit of oxygenated blood from her lungs, and it seeped slowly from her chest to her limbs, which twitched feebly. Her body was weightless, and drifted without resistance through the roiling water. Her golden eyes were still large and golden, surprisingly unharmed by the debris that cluttered the river. They betrayed her last moments' fear. As her joints began to stiffen and seize up, something strange occurred. Her conscious returned.

_Am I not dead? Did I pass out? Am I somehow still-_ She wondered. But she realized her mouth was open. And she was breathing. Glancing down, she saw her body floating below her in the river. She herself was relatively undisturbed by the rapid, gushing water. But her body was not. Her leg, caught between two rocks, anchored her to the bottom of the river, through the current still strained to pull her away. As Whitefang watched her lifeless form, she realized how different she looked from her reflection. Now, she saw that her body was long and strong, albeit tall and thick. But she was well-muscled. Her paws were giant, but round and stout. Her tail was like a plumy white feather, and her ears weren't that crooked. Her eyes were rather pretty. She stared in amazement at her lean, taut stomach. _Did I carry three kits in that? And birth them, too?_ She asked herself, amazed. _Did Falconshade really fall in love with this? Clearly, it's nothing special. It's average. But he thought I was beautiful. _She felt like crying, and all of a sudden it pained her to look at the body that had once contained a life.

She looked up, and saw the stormy sky through the gloom and doom of the darkened river. She began to swim up, but it felt strange. There was no water against her pelt, no moisture, no resistance against her glittering white paws. It didn't feel like swimming. She cautiously placed one paw in front of the other, spreading it out as if bracing it against a hard surface. One step after another, Whitefang taught herself how to walk on air. It was a curious sensation, much like dying had been. She was not fond of it. The realization that each step she took brought her further from home shook her, but she kept walking. She had died for a reason.

As she made her way out of the river, a dazzling silver-white light glowed from between the trees. The beams dazzled her eyes, so used to darkness, that she closed them to keep the rays from piercing her face. Once she'd prepared herself, she opened them. The light was gone. In its place was an enormous path, much like the stairs in Lightheart's old twoleg nest. Lightheart…she'd forgotten to say farewell to her old friend. She hoped he wouldn't hold it against her.

She began to pad up the path, but stopped short. There was a figure standing before her. A figure so familiar it took everything she had not to cry.

"Hello, Whitefang." Swanmist smiled, her light green eyes twinkling, "Welcome to Starclan."

* * *

><p>"And this is where I leave you," The white warrior mewed warmly, the silver swirls on her pelt gleaming in the brightness of Starclan's great forest.<p>

"Y-you're leaving me? But Swanmist, we have so much to talk about! I haven't told you about the kits, or about Falconshade, or-" Whitefang saw Swanmist's eyes darken, but in a blink it was gone.

"Dear sister," Swanmist purred - she didn't look a day older than when she died-"I'll always be here to talk. But you should explore. You can't just be tied down to me, Whitefang!" She mewed teasingly. With that, the dead Shadowclan warrior turned and padded into the forest, her footfalls fading away as she disappeared, leaving Whitefang alone. Her eyes threatened to overflow with fountains of salty tears, and her heart felt the weight of all she'd left behind. _What have I done? _

"But…that's why I'm here. I'm tied to you." Whitefang whispered softly, watching her sister leave.

**Short and sweet. Well, short and sour, but it's still short.**

**QOTD: Whitefang is actually dead. This is not belated April Fools. Thoughts?**

**Okay, now that I've gotten this chapter off my chest there's some pretty _sweet_ Timbermask stuff I've written from his POV. The first, I've creatively named it "Timber's Song", which is up for debate, shall be posted exactly an hour after this chapter receives its tenth review. Don't question me on the timing, I just thought of it and it will give me a deadline. Remember, the name of this thing is still up for debate! But it's literally a song/poem type deal. I've been working on my lyrical skills, which were rather crappy and may still be.**

**So that will be posted soon.**

**Hugs,**

**Bright**


	70. Already Gone

**Whitefang may be dead, but her tale is not yet fully told...**

"Whitefang!" A brilliant cry sounded from behind her. She turned and found herself face to face with her clanmates, those she'd missed so much. Shyfawn smiled sadly at her, looking younger and more beautiful than Whitefang could have ever imagined her. Her turquoise gaze was bright and clear, with no trace of the heavy sadness that had followed her since Goldenfrost's death. Instead, there lay pity. Speaking of the former medicine cat apprentice, Whitefang greeted her with a warm purr. The pretty gold-pelted she-cat purred, but glanced looked forlornly at Whitefang, not meeting her gaze. Those sun-like eyes were too much like Stonetail's. Beside her stood Darkclaw, Sharpcloud, and Rosedust. Honeygaze peered over her uncle's shoulder, waving her tail toward the one who'd named her. Brightkit and Whisperkit stood beside a tall, elegant, snow-pelted she-cat with eyes the same crystal blue hue as Paledove's. The kits were solemn, but the she-cat they accompanied stood proud and tall, her smile white as her pelt and just as bright.

"Whitefang, I saw what you did for my grandson. Thank you." Darkclaw rumbled, "Emberpaw will be a grand member of Shadowclan." The dark tabby's red-amber eyes were brimming with tears. "I only wish you could've stayed with your kits. I never wished my fate upon you, young'un." Whitefang's lungs collapsed, and she could not breathe. For the first time, she realized she would never see her kits again. She would not touch their fur, take in their sweet scent, or answer their persistent questions. She wouldn't stand proudly by their sides as they were apprenticed, or cheer their warrior names from beside her mate. She would never meet her grandkits, she would never live to see her mate join Shadowclan, or see her parents' smiles as her kits became warriors and had kits of their own. She would never hear them speak her name, or feel their throbbing purrs as they slept next to her in the dark of night. She wouldn't see their first catches placed proudly on the freshkill pile, or fight beside them in battle. They may not even remember her. She cough-sobbed, crouching to the ground as the agonizing sorrow tore through her like a knife.

"Your kits are adorable, Whitefang! Why did you leave them?" Honeygaze wailed miserably, rushing to her side.

"Are you alright, young'un?" Sharpcloud asked gently, Rosedust nodding in concern, stepping closer and licking her ear sweetly.

"I'm fine, I think…" Whitefang mumbled, squeezing her eyes shut, hoping it was all a dream. _I'm in my nest…I'm home with my kits. I never threw myself in the river. It's all just a dream. _Her body shook uncontrollably, and she could no longer suppress her tears. They flowed freely, coursing down her cheeks like flooded rivers.

"Give her space, everyone!" Shyfawn said, assuming that brusque, caretaker manner Whitefang knew and loved. But the elegant white she-cat shook her head.

"Please, give me a moment alone with my granddaughter." She mewed, her voice as soft and sweet and velvety as mint leaves in Newleaf. Even this, though, could not comfort the tearful warrior.

"Granddaughter?" Whitefang croaked as the others padded away. The she-cat wiped Whitefang's face gently with a soft, small paw, her eyes warm and loving.

"Yes, sweetheart. My name is Fallensnow. I'm your mother's mother." The white queen purred, "Now, this doesn't mean I approved of her treatment of you. Far from it! I love you and your sister like you are my own kits. And _your_ kits, Whitefang…why did you leave them? They need their mother, darling, as much as they need their father. They have neither." Whitefang bristled defensively, her heart panging with the loss of her family more now than ever. _This must be a dream!_

"They have Timbermask!" Whitefang retorted, "And he'll take care of them!" But in her heart of hearts, she knew she was a coward. She had run from them.

"But why couldn't you?" Fallensnow asked gently, "They need their mother, darling, as much as you needed Paledove. How did it feel when you knew she wasn't by your side _voluntarily_? They'll think you abandoned them, Whitefang."

"I had too!" Whitefang wailed, "If I stayed, I couldn't have been a mother to them! I would've been empty, a shell. I would've been my mother all over again, Fallensnow. I was trying to…I was trying to save them from me. And now it's all a mess. Why did I do this? What's wrong with me?!" The former queen tore at her own thick whit fur, so much like her grandmother's, in despair.

"Whitefang, stop it!" Fallensnow said sharply, "Stop that immediately." Whitefang exhaled, ridding herself of the hot, rancid breaths that so filled her lungs with the self-loathing she needed to spill. She collapsed, dizzy, against her grandmother, and screamed into the Starclan she-cat's thick pelt. They lay like that for what seemed like years, where Whitefang would howl profanities and angry, hateful cries into the pristine white fur of her grandmother. Fallensnow would stay there and take it; she would lean over and console her granddaughter when Whitefang needed air, lapping gently at her ragged pelt.

Once she had finished, and was thoroughly exhausted, bitter, and humiliated, Whitefang looked up at Fallensnow. Her eyes were red, bloodshot and puffy. Her nose ran uncontrollably and messy, sticky strands of saliva hung from her sore jaws, clinging to Fallensnow's fur. Her throat, hoarse and scratchy, cracked when she spoke.

"Tell me…" She rasped, "Am I a terrible cat? A terrible mother? A coward? Tell me!"

"Oh, dearest little one…" Fallensnow murmured, and Whitefang could only imagine being her mother, and having been consoled by that sweet, gentle voice…"You're not a bad cat. You're not a bad mother. You are no coward, Whitefang. You were brave. You did what you thought was right, even though it was wrong. I'm proud of you, my love."

"Proud?" She sniffed wretchedly, "Of this? This wreck, this mess of a cat that is your kin?"

"Proud," Fallensnow repeatedly firmly, "I know it must be hard. It was hard for me knowing that I'd never see my daughter again-"

"But I did it, Fallensnow! I did this! This is all my fault and I can't reverse it! My kits will grow up without knowing their true father, they will live without a mother, they will grow up orphans! I ruined their lives, Fallensnow, don't you see?" Whitefang yowled.

"Whitefang, they are not orphans. You are, and will always be, their mother. You promised your daughter forever, Whitefang1 You promised her you'd always be by her side. Just because you're not there in the flesh does not mean you do not exist. And they have Timbermask. Whatever you may think of him, whatever Falconshade may think, or anyone else, he is their foster father and he loves them. If need be, he'll be their father. Do you understand? Blood doesn't matter to them. He loves them, and they love him right back. Whatever happens, your kits will have Timbermask. And your parents will be there for them. They will coddle them, yes, but I know them. They will provide all the tough love you would have had you stayed, I know it. And your darling Falconshade, my dear, he will stop at nothing to be a father. I don't know when news of your death will reach him, or any of them, but he will be there. Your kits are not orphans, dearest."

"Fallensnow…" Whitefang whispered, "What if they don't remember me?"

"Whitefang, Whitefang. Whatever you may believe, a kit never truly forgets their mother, even if she's gone at birth. You have a connection to them, sweet one. Do you not think that each of them will feel as though an important part of them is missing? Do you not think Blossomkit will remember your promise to her, your last words? Will Wolfkit ever forget your love, or Hazelkit? Never. They'll always know you love them, Whitefang, if you show them." Fallensnow assured her patiently, lovingly. Then, with a final tender caress, she stood.

"Where are you going?" Whitefang whimpered.

"I was going to go to my nest," Fallensnow purred.

"Stay with me?" She mewed feebly, like a forlorn kit.

"Of course, my darling. If you wish it." Her grandmother replied, settling down beside Whitefang. Their thick white pelts meshed, and blue eyes met gold as the pair leaned against each other, Whitefang seeking the comfort only a mother could give. Fallensnow knew she was no Paledove, but maybe it was better that way. As golden eyes closed, the starry world vanishing, replaced by a familiar blanket of darkness that cascaded over her, holding her close. She felt Fallensnow's warm breath against her ear, and the firm realness of her grandmother at her side. It was not her family, no. Whitefang's heart ached as if a thousand stones were weighing upon it. Not even the black of sleep could save her now.

* * *

><p>For the first time, Whitefang did not dream. She was dead, and she assumed that was part of it. No dreams, for the dream-senders no longer caught her life's light in their claws and toyed with it. She blinked awake, dazzled by the brilliant light of her starry haven that was her hell. Fallensnow had left sometime earlier, though her soft scent still lingered. She could envision her lovely, snow-white grandmother whispering: "When you need my, my dear, I'll be here." She nearly cried. Whitefang was alone in a place where all she should be is surrounded by love. Whitefang stretched, and fought back tears. <em>Be strong, Whitefang. Be strong. You must find your sister. Swanmist can help you. Sisters forever, right? For always.<em> She staggered to her paws, unused to the sudden brightness that was Starclan. There was no dim, dull dawn to greet her here. Here, they crafted the dawn that broke across the horizon. They did not bask in its glory, as did the living.

"Where am I?" Whitefang wondered aloud, glancing around. She was at the edge of a great forest, standing alone on a rolling grassy knoll. A silent breeze ruffled her star-speckled pelt, though she did not feel it. She padded warily across the hillside, away from the forest that glittered and shone as if lit from within. Something was drawing her past the rippling green fields, toward a vast emptiness. He paws scuffed a dry, lifeless patch of dirt where no grass grew. _Curious,_ she thought vaguely, paying little attention to it. Her gaze was fixed on the distance. As she crept across the grass, the emptiness grew closer…and closer…and then-

"Whitefang!" A voice cried out anxiously. Whitefang turned, but still walked onward. Swanmist was racing across the empty moors, her voice carried on the wind. Her green eyes were wild as she stared at Whitefang.

"Whitefang!" She shrieked. That was when she felt it. The newly made Starclan warrior no longer felt the waving fronds of grass beneath her paws. She was falling.

"Swanmist!" She wailed, scrabbling for the edge of Starclan. But she was too late. Whitefang was plummeting over the edge. Swanmist's face appeared far above her, looking out over the drop off…her paw was reaching…

Then Whitefang wasn't falling anymore. She had her eyes squeezed shut, bracing herself for impact. But she was no longer moving through the empty space. Opening her eyes, Whitefang realized she was lying on a bed of soft green pine needles. Well, she couldn't tell if they were soft. She could not feel them. Standing, Whitefang looked about her. She was in Shadowclan territory. The skies had cleared, and they were a brilliant blue. She was beside the river, and she shivered. That river…the water was still murky and dark, but there was a flash of-

Whitefang grew ill immediately. It was a flash of white. That was _her_, her _body_ in that polluted river. Whitefang wanted to puke, but there was nothing left in her stomach. She was dead, anyway. _Do the dead eat?_ She wondered. She began walking, almost instinctively, toward camp. The path was worn and familiar; she knew it well. Yet she could not feel the rough dirt and stones beneath her starry pads. The winding, twisting paths and prickly branches did not bother her, for she was headed home.

"Mama! Papa!" Whitefang called as she walked through the tunnel. She refused to believe she was dead. The previous night was all just a dream, and now she had woken. She was home. "Blossomkit, Wolfkit, Hazelkit, I'm home!"

"Timbermask!" Wolfkit cried. She watched as her son tumbled out of the nursery, his white pelt bushed up and his blue eyes wide, "Dad!"

"Wolfkit, wait up!" Blossomkit called after him, struggling to exit the nursery on sleepy, wobbly legs.

"Guys!" Hazelkit mewed, racing after them. Whitefang dashed toward her kits.

"Kittens! Kittens, Mama's home! Oh, Mama's home and she won't ever leave you again!" Whitefang meowed, trying to embrace her brown tabby son, who was closest to her. He ran right through her glimmering paws, hurrying after his siblings.

"Hazelkit!" She wailed, "See me, please! My baby!"

"Daddy!" Blossomkit howled. A disgruntled Timbermask stumbled out of the warrior's den, eyes bleary and unfocused as he walked toward his foster kits.

"What's wrong? Why are you up so early? The dawn patrol hasn't even woken yet. Go back to sleep." He mewed softly, "Go back to your mother. Go on now." Whitefang watched with teary eyes as Timbermask herded the kits back to the nursery. By now, Paledove and Stonetail had emerged from the warrior's den as well. Bleary eyes and ungroomed, they approached their family.

"What's all the ruckus?" The graying deputy asked, shaking his head as though to clear it. Paledove padded slowly after him, crystal blue eyes half-closed. Blossomkit raced to her grandmother, grasping her about the leg in a desperate attempt to be noticed.

"Paledove, Paledove, I can't find Mama!" She whimpered. Immediately, the former queen's eyes snapped open.

"Mother…please see me." Whitefang begged, reaching out to touch the pale silver she-cat. Her paw sailed right through her mother's mussed pelt.

"Whitefang? You can't find Whitefang?" She asked, looking down at the ginger kit. Blossomkit nodded anxiously.

"She was here last night, Paledove. I woke up and she was leaving. She wouldn't tell me when she was coming back." The tiny kit sniffed.

"Leaving?" Stonetail whispered, his voice cracked and tired.

"Whitefang…she always leaves. She always comes back. Maybe she just got stuck in the storm." Paledove offered, consoling her mate and granddaughter. Wolfkit and Hazelkit looked to their foster father worriedly.

"She just left," Wolfkit repeated, hoping to evoke some kind of response. Timbermask stayed silent. Then, turning to Blossomkit, he asked:

"What exactly did she say to you, sweetheart?" He murmured.

"She said…it was something Mommy had to do alone. I couldn't come," Blossomkit mewled, "She never said when she'd come back…but she said she'd always love us." This hit Timbermask hard. His eyes widened, like deep green pools that shone with grief.

"Whitefang," He whispered, voicing the pain that had blossomed in his chest.

"Timbermask!" She cried, "Timbermask, please!" But he had already gone. She raced after him, following the tom as he darted among the pines. He traced the paths rapidly, calling her name as he ran. She always called back to him, each time more tearful and frightened than the last.

"Whitefang!" He screamed. His fur stood on end, eyes wild and untamed as he howled her name to the stars. He seemed to know she was dead before she did.

"Timbermask!" She wailed, following him.

"Whitefang!" He shouted, paws thundering on the damp dirt like badgers across hollow stone, "Whitefang!" Trees whipped him mercilessly with their outstretched branches and the pebbles pierced his pads like knives.

Finally, he reached the river. He paced up and down the water, peering down deep into the depths. She couldn't watch when he hauled her body out of the water. But she did. The pale brown tabby tom lept into the murky, rippling liquid and she watched as his head went under. Five seconds…ten seconds…fifteen…twenty…then his face emerged. In his jaws, he clutched a tattered white scruff. Whitefang felt his teeth at the back of her neck as if she were still alive…still breathing. His eyes were clouded with grief and anger, and she watched as he crawled out onto the soiled riverbank, dragging her body gently behind him. He spat out her scruff and took a deep breath. She heard his anguished cry, and refused to accept it just as much as he did. He began pounding her chest, forcing the water out of her lungs in violent spurts.

"Breathe!" Timbermask roared, the salty tears coursing down his face like raging rivers through the muddied valleys of his sharp cheekbones. "Breathe, dammit, breathe! Whitefang, you can't be gone! You can't leave me!" Whitefang watched as the brown river sludge erupted from her mouth and burbled out the sides of her jaws, her eyes wide and open and afraid. But lifeless. Her pelt was sodden and streaked with brown. Bits of leaves and twigs and stone were caught in the matted fur, as well as her hind leg twisted at an awkward angle. Yet Timbermask continued to pound her. She heard her ribs cracking further than they had already, and the tabby collapsed on her body, sobbing wretchedly into her cold, wet pelt.

"Timbermask…" She whispered, frozen in place.

"Whitefang, please…" He whimpered into her body, "Please don't be dead. I-I wish _I _ were dead! The kits, the kits! Your parents, Whitefang. I knew as soon as she said-great Starclan! I was a fool. You're dead, you're dead, and you're gone. I'm never going to see you again. The kits…" his voice was weak and shaking, nearly gone from him, "Whitefang, I can't take you home. They can't see you like this. Are you there now, in Starclan? Are you an angel, did you mean to go?" He asked her, clutching at her body. "Whitefang…I-I loved you."

She couldn't watch any longer. Whitefang closed her eyes and willed herself away, far away. Opening them, she found herself in that field. And Swanmist was at her side.

"Whitefang…"He sister whimpered, pulling her close. Whitefang curled up into the curve of Swanmist's shoulders, burying her muzzle deep into her sister's pelt and inhaling deeply the scent that had lingered at the back of her mind for oh so many moons.

"They found it," She sobbed, "The body…my body…the river…" Swanmist said nothing, only held Whitefang tighter and closer to herself. Finally, after rocking back and forth together, Swanmist tore herself away.

"Whitefang, I'm so sorry…my little sister! Oh, Whitefang…" She cried, "Whitefang, my dear little sister, this never should've happened to you. Why? Why did you do this?"

"I need to go back," Whitefang mewed absently, not listening, "I need to go back down. My kits…"

"Whitefang, stay with me. I was wrong, I need you and you need me. We can be tied to each other, Whitefang, but it's too painful for you. Please, just stay, and we'll work everything out. Whitefang, you won't be able to take it-" Swanmist begged.

"Don't tell me what I can't take!" Whitefang shouted angrily, he sorrow turned to fury, "Don't tell me what to do! I need to see my family, Swanmist!" With that, she squeezed her eyes shut and willed herself down into the pines that encircled Shadowclan's camp. She felt her sister's paws against her shoulder, trying to keep her there, but she was already gone.

**Swanmist, you can't fight it. She isn't being mean, by the way, Swanmist is genuinely trying to protect her sister from the horrors she'll see back in the Clans.**

**QOTD: The reactions to Whitefang's death/disappearance: The kits, Timbermask, her parents, Fallensnow. Thoughts?**

**See you soon!**

**~Bright**

**(Another Timbermask POV work is in progress)**


	71. Never Far From Home

**Back with another installation! Still don't get why y'all think this is the end. We have one more climax to reach before this story bubbles over like a pot of poasta. Weird simile. **

Whitefang found herself in the center of camp: it was the calm before the storm. Timbermask had not yet arrived. The kits paced back and forth anxiously, mewling pitifully and winding themselves around the shaking legs of their grandparents. Paledove's face was full and hopeful: she glanced toward the entrance every few seconds as if Whitefang would step through the tunnel as soon as her eyes met it. Stonetail's visage was gaunt and drawn: it was almost as if he had given up already. It was still early, and cats were just waking. Cherrynose, who had heard the earlier disturbance when the kits darted from the den, had recently joined the watch party. The pretty tortoiseshell she-cat chattered nervously to Paledove, eliciting no response from the pale silver warrior. Whitefang watched them with dull, empty eyes and a full heart. She knew not what they would do. But no cat would be spared the cries of her mother, who had just gained a daughter only to have lost her so soon. She looked away once she heard the heavy footsteps outside the tunnel, and the rhythmic beat of a heavy tail tracing thick trails over pine needles, and the pounding percussion of water droplets splattering against the impressionable dirt.

She looked back towards the tunnel just as soon as Timbermask entered. Paledove's echoing cry shook the earth. Whitefang's body, on that she now felt so distant from, was draped over a pair of strong, pale brown shoulders crisscrossed with darker stripes. His emerald eyes were dark and watered down with defeat. Stonetail's sharp intake of breath and choked speech - "No!" - riled the kits, who in turn began to cry. Cherrynose whimpered quietly as Timbermask lowered himself to the ground and gently slid the sodden, dirty white form from his back and onto the ground with a small thud. Her golden eyes were still open: wide, terrified, and unseeing. Whitefang felt her fragile heart tear in two and spill its contents out over the ground when her little son raced up to her. Wolfkit licked her face, and tasted the acrid tang from the grimy river water.

"Mama?" He mewed, pawing at her cheek, "Mama it's me! Don't you remember me?" Hazelkit buried his face in his mother's pelt, and looked up to Timbermask in fear.

"She's cold, Daddy! Her fur is cold!" He wailed. Blossomkit threw herself at her mother, shaking her body persistently.

"Get up! Get up!" She cried, "Mama, you need to get up!"

"Her eyes are open, Daddy, but she won't get up! Is she still asleep?" Wolfkit asked, beseeching staring into Timbermask's sullen face.

"She isn't sleeping, Wolfkit," He replied, raising a paw to cover his mouth, for he couldn't bear telling the whole truth to such an innocent child.

"Mama, you said you would stay with us! You promised!" Blossomkit squeaked.

"Mama, please!" Hazelkit whined, catching on before his siblings. His eyes widened. "Mama?"

Paledove collapsed beside her daughter, pressing against her soaking wet pelt. She coiled around Whitefang as if she were a sleeping kit, lapping at her fur, murmuring sweet nothings that she would never hear. But she did. Whitefang watched her mother carefully, and crept forward to hear her words.

"I'm sorry, baby…" She was whispering, "I'm so so sorry…my daughter…my only daughter…my kit, my darling, my creation, my sweet, sweet baby…I love you…I love you…" Paledove's voice shook on every word except "I love you". Whitefang felt her heart's broken fragments shatter into stabbing smithereens.

"Whitefang," Stonetail rasped, padding over to the body, "my daughter."

"What's wrong, Daddy?" Blossomkit whimpered, looking up at her stoic foster father, "What's wrong with Mama?

"Whitefang- Mama's dead." Timbermask whispered. The kits commenced their hysteria, straining to reach their mother. Cherrynose shook her head and gently herded the kits back to the nursery, where the other queens and kits stared out in horror and disbelief. By now, the entire warrior's den had emerged into the clearing, yowling and crying out in pain. Hollowstar and Featherfall braced themselves against each other, the former queen's copper eyes dark as night as she remembered the warrior who once saved her and named her daughter, who she now joined in Starclan. Bouncestrike and Rainwing comforted their brother, and their parents mourned quietly from a fair distance away. Addershriek's glowing hazel gaze was clouded and distant, as was Waterfall's, as they were reminded of the hardworking apprentice that had once graced their mentorships. The apprentices – Aspenpaw, Sorrelpaw, Honeypaw, and Emberpaw – gazed upon the fallen warrior with great sadness. Emberpaw had lost one of his first and only friends in the Clans, and his Uncle, Lightheart, stood beside Rosefoot solemnly. The tears in his eyes spilled silently over his cheeks, and eventually he had to turn away. Pinetail stood by his parents, who mourned Whitefang's loss as the others did. Even Icegaze managed to conjure a tear as he held Stormfall back from the body. Shiverspots murmured small comforts to her frantic brother, who was in no way consoled. The elders arrived, old joints creaking as they told themselves it should've been them to go first. The younger warriors and even the older ones, such as Kestrelwind, stayed quietly off to the side, letting those who were closer to Whitefang step forward. The White warrior couldn't bear the hollow screams of her clanmates as they spied her mangled body in the clearing.

_Swanmist was right_, Whitefang thought, _I can't take this_. But she stayed. She watched as Shiverspots enlisted Addershriek and Hollowstar's help in carrying the body into the medicine cat's den for burial and vigil preparations. The kits were cowering in the nursery entrance, sniffling and watching their "father" with wide eyes. Timbermask was standing still and icy cold in the clearing, watching Paledove and Stonetail curled about each other. Whitefang knew her children needed a father: if Falconshade didn't know, then Timbermask had to step up. She knew not the depth of his grief, but he needed to push it aside for the kits. They needed him. She walked toward him slowly, her starry paws floating inches above the damp, squishy ground of the camp clearing. Her long, feather white tail plumed out behind her and blew in a nonexistent breeze, scattering stardust across the muddied earth. Once she reached her "mate", a sudden surge of affection, friendly affection, reached her crumpled heart. Sauntering up beside him, she pressed her flank to his and leaned over to whisper in his ear, willing herself to be heard with all her might:

"They need you. Take care of them for me, my friend." He stiffened beside her, and whirled about to face her. Though he could not see her, she met his gaze. _He heard me. My prayer._

"Whitefang," He breathed, voice hopeful and lilting. She stepped closer and touched her nose to his. _Feel me?_ And he shuddered, as if hit with an icy blast or a flying spark.

"I will," He whispered as she backed away, her presence leaving him. Then, he turned toward the nursery.

"Daddy?" Blossomkit mewled piteously.

"I'm here, little ones. I'm here." He murmured, leaning down to scoop all three of the precious little furry bundles into his paws. Her heart mending, Whitefang turned away. Her parents were still in the clearing, her mother sobbing into her father's pelt as he rocked her back and forth rhythmically. Her mother's words were slurred and muffled by the tears and Stonetail's thick pelt:

"She was my baby, my only baby left…I was such a terrible mother, a terrible mother and now she's gone! Gone, gone, gone…Fallensnow, Fallensnow, watch over my darling little kitten. Stonetail it should've been me! Why is she dead? I should be dead!" Then, a sudden flood of salty droplets interrupted the stream of words. Whitefang padded over to sit beside them, but her energy was sapped. One presence was too much for this new Starclan warrior. She could not help her parents.

"Mama, mama I'm right here!" She insisted, "I'm right here!"

"Hush, my love." Stonetail murmured. Then, Paledove looked up into her mate's eyes with wild, frantic abandon.

"Kill me," She said quietly, but the volume rose with every repetition: "Kill me, kill me, kill me! Just do it!" She wailed, thrashing in his embrace.

"Paledove, Paledove please stop!" Stonetail tried desperately to stop her.

"Kill me!" She howled. Shiverspots darted from the medicine cat den, her paws still smelling of lavender and mint: herbs to hide the stench of death. This set Paledove off further, and Whitefang couldn't bear to watch as Stonetail forced poppy seeds down her mother's throat to calm her. As the pale silver warrior passed out on the swampy ground, her mate sighed, and with tears welling once again in his eyes, was aided by others as they carried the limp, grief-torn former queen to the medicine cat's den. Shiverspots looked tired and upset, but kept up her confidant and stable façade. _Take care of her, too._ Whitefang thought. She tried to call out to her father, but her voice would no longer carry to the living world. Instead, exhaustion seeped into her bones, filling her body with lead. She stumbled, and with a crashing thud, tumbled to the ground. Her eyes closing, she had not the strength to will herself to Starclan. As the world went dark, Whitefang exhaled her excess emotion, and sleep descended.

* * *

><p>As she woke from dreamless slumber, Whitefang noted that she had not returned to her starry heaven. She had been fast asleep, curled into a ball of cat that hovered a mere few inches from the ground. She heard a slight disturbance from within the nursery, and rose, stretching, before hurrying to investigate. As she entered, she saw her kits nestled at Timbermask's belly as he played mother. It was from them that the disturbance originated. Wolfkit was thrashing in his sleep, paws flailing wildly as he called out into the darkness:<p>

"Mama! Mama, come back, don't leave, please don't go! Mama!" He shrieked. She watched as Timbermask woke and prodded her son until he, too, was awake. The pale brown tabby nuzzled his cheek and licked the small tom's head between his tall white ears.

"It was a dream, Wolfkit. You're alright, you're with me." Timbermask whispered so as not to disturb the others.

"But she's still gone," Her son replied, sniffling miserably, "Daddy, if she really loved us, why did she have to go?" Timbermask gazed at Wolfkit solemnly, emerald eyes glowing faintly in the half-light that filtered through the slats in the nursery walls.

"I ask myself that every second, Wolfkit. But, sometimes, if you love something…" He looked up, and seemed to meet her gaze, "let them go."

Whitefang waited as her son wet back to sleep before brushing her tail over him like a blanket. Surprisingly, he clutched at it, and pulled it closer. He could _feel _her. And she didn't need to try. She touched her nose to his forehead, like she used to, and his eyelids fluttered in his sleep. She wondered what he was dreaming of. As she kept her nose on his forehead, she willed herself there.

She opened her eyes, and saw Wolfkit in a field of tall green grass. He was with his sister and his brother, frolicking there among the tiny blue and yellow flowers. She saw Timbermask there, and herself. The entire family was in the field, happy and carefree. She saw her dream self lean down to embrace Wolfkit, and heard laughter. She didn't want to disturb this serene image, and left.

Finding herself again in the nursery, Whitefang glanced around at her friends. Cherrynose was shifting uncomfortably in her nest, and Duckflight was coiled tightly around Badgerkit, and Doestep was snoring contentedly in the corner. Timbermask's heavy breathing echoed about the cavernous space, and Whitefang sighed. Her breath, a puff of stardust, drifted through the air like a silent storm. As she turned to leave, a low moan rumbled across the mossy ground.

"Ungh…"

Whitefang turned, and saw Cherrynose's eyes squeezed shut as she rolled over in her nest. The heavily pregnant queen, now at least a week past her due date, was going into labor.

"Guys?" Whitefang whispered anxiously, forgetting she was an anonymous presence, "Guys?"

"Ungh…AH!" Cherrynose grunted, curling around her belly in pain as the contractions gripped her abdomen, "Arghhh!"

"Somebody!" Whitefang called. Cherrynose continued to groan. The rest of the nursery, thoroughly exhausted, slept on. Whitefang hurried to her friend's side and placed a paw on her shoulder. If no one else would aid her, Whitefang would be there. She felt her friend's soft pelt beneath her paw and willed her to feel it, too.

"Please, please, please!" She urged.

"Whitefang?" Cherrynose croaked, eyes blinking open and staring at the glowing, glimmering form that flickered beside her in the darkness.

"Hey," Whitefang purred, "You alright there?"

"This is so much harder than the first – AH! – time," Cherrynose hissed, and Whitefang laughed.

"But you're a veteran!" She grinned, "Surely you're alright?"

"Where are all your starry medicine cats?" Cherrynose muttered, "I feel like I'm splitting in two." Whitefang nudged her gently with her nose and smiled.

"You're doing great. Just push!" She said.

"Why did you leave?" Cherrynose huffed as she strained against nature, "We need you here, Whitefang. You're my – Great Starclan that hurts! – best friend." Whitefang frowned.

"You wouldn't understand," She said, "Push!" Cherrynose howled, and Whitefang leaned over a small, damp bundle of black fur.

"But…I would…try to understand…please, Whitefang just- ARGH!" Cherrynose pleaded, only to be interrupted by yet another painful cramp. Whitefang placed the first kit, a little tom, by Cherrynose's stomach just in time, and caught the next. Another black kit, this time with a smattering of brown freckles across his back. Whitefang licked him clean, and placed him beside his sister.

"It's not a simple problem, Cherrynose." Whitefang replied as her panting friend screamed silently. A third kit: brown with black ears. Another tom. As Whitefang cleaned him and placed him next to his siblings, she put a paw gently down on Cherrynose's stomach.

"I think there's another one in there!" She exclaimed, veering further away from the previous subject. The tortie queen's breaths were labored and sweat coursed down her face and back in salty rivers. With a final heave and a deafening scream, a last kit slid out onto the damp moss with a loud squeak. Black like the first, and with lungs as powerful as his mother's. It was another tom. Whitefang was exhausted, and flickered out of sight as she gave her friend a final purr:

"You did it, I'm so proud of you…"

Bouncestrike burst into the nursery, and stumbled upon his breathless mate, four kits, and startled, woken nursery inhabitants.

"What did you-how did you-what?" He stammered, gazing down at his three sons and daughter.

"Why didn't you wake us?" Duckflight asked, peering into the nest with Badgerkit lose beside her.

"Can we see?" Hazelkit wondered sleepily.

"Yes, of course you can see, darling." Cherrynose mumbled, beckoning the little tom over with a twitch of her tail.

"But how?" Bouncestrike repeated.

"I had my guardian angel watching over me," Cherrynose sighed, "Whitefang was with me the entire time." Wolfkit and Blossomkit looked up at her with wide eyes.

"Mama? They mewed. Whitefang watched the exchange painfully.

"Yes, your mother helped me little ones. She's always there, all around us. Oh, kits, she loves you. She never left you for a moment." Cherrynose murmured gently.

"Never?" Hazelkit repeated.

"Never," Whitefang whispered.

**QOTD: Names for the four kits?**

**Until next time!**

**~Bright**


	72. Father

**And we're back! I'm happy to say that next chapter will be another turning point in the story, though a few of you may, uh, not like it. Like at all. Moving on...**

Whitefang stayed in the living world for an entire week. She watched her kits grow even closer to Timbermask; she watched her mother weaken and cry out in her sleep for her daughter, and, most terrifying of all, she watched her own burial. It was disturbing, watching herself be lowered into the ground so reverently by those who, up until recently, had never held her so close during her lifetime. She listened to the kits, who were constantly in the elder's den, beg the two old toms for tales of their mother. She'd sit with them as her clanmates told of times long past: Dawnstrike of the badger attack, Waterfall of the Riverclan conflicts, Lightheart of the Sanctum, Cherrynose and Timbermask of their kithood, Addershriek of her apprenticeship. Stonetail told them many stories, and Whitefang believed her children were helping her father cope with grief. He rarely left Paledove's side, and was never not accompanied by a devoted grandkit or two. Cherrynose's newborns mewled often and took up a great deal of her time, and her older children grew jealous of their needy younger siblings. Bouncestrike made sure to spend as much time with his first litter as possible. The newest arrivals were named accordingly after birth: Nightkit for the black she-cat, Frecklekit for the brown splattered tom, Scorchkit for the tom with black ears, and Wildkit for the black tom. The Clan doted on them: new life was even more precious after death, for the circle must continue.

Whitefang was still unused to being dead. She would find herself talking to those who could not hear her, and she would join patrols to pace borders than she was unable to feel underfoot. Her kits were her only saving grace: they had some strange connection, as if a part of her survived inside of them. She needn't will them to see her, but she did not allow them too often. She feared it may upset them, seeing the mother they barely knew and not being able to have her. She visited at night instead, when they were asleep. Occasionally, when the stress of childrearing alone was too much for Timbermask to bear, she would whisper words of encouragement. She was fearful, too, of visiting her mother, for she thought the idea of being so near a dead daughter may push the fragile former queen into deeper despair. Stonetail, however, seemed to feel her presence constantly. He would turn to her even if he could not see her, and sometimes Whitefang thought he might even hear her when she spoke.

Talking to herself and others who never responded had become a constant habit, so constant and such a ritual that Whitefang felt she was going mad. Swanmist never accompanied her in the living world: the she-cat stayed up in the starry depths of the sky, where Whitefang assumed she was watching from above. Her sister seemed to find the most remote regions of their new heaven, and only emerged when Whitefang returned. She supposed Swanmist was still too shaken by all that had occurred during and after her death, and was not stable enough to return to the territories. Whitefang couldn't imagine not being home: she felt as though she would be unstable if she could not stay in Shadowclan. Sometimes, she would spy her dead clanmates poking into dens or visiting their loved ones: Darkclaw would spend an afternoon with Lightheart or Emberpaw, or Honeygaze would join a patrol with her siblings or sit with her parents during supper. Even Whisperkit and Brightkit would visit their siblings and parents, and Mothwhisker always seemed morose and agitated when she sensed her dead children's spirits. It was clear she would never accept their deaths, so the pair visited infrequently to spare their mother the pain. Sometimes even Sharpcloud and Rosedust would arrive in the Clans: they would stay with their children and grandkits; sometimes they even shared tongues with the elders or senior warriors.

The dead were never truly gone.

What disturbed Whitefang were the shadowed spectral figures that prowled along the darkest corners. They traipsed through the forest, with glowing eyes and flickering shapes, a mirage. Whitefang knew not who they were or where they came from: they were merely visitors, the same as she. But it was clear that no cat wanted them there. One, a tom cloaked in shadow, with one glimmering eye of gold and one of silver, would slink about Icegaze like a foreboding wraith. The white tom would shudder and hiss whenever he felt the icy presence, and Whitefang would watch from afar. The shadow guests never seemed to acknowledge those of light, and Whitefang noticed the other starry figures paid them no mind. Thankfully, they only came at night.

Whitefang spent so much time with her family, and she had all but forgotten het mate in Riverclan. Falconshade drifted somewhere at the edge of her consciousness: she loved him dearly still, and wished for him to be with her and the kits, but she could not leave her Clan. She didn't know what kind of energy it would require to speak to him, and she feared the darkened figures that may lurk along the border.

Stormfall seemed to realize this predicament: he was the only one other than Timbermask who knew of the kits' true father, though he knew not who he was. He would volunteer to walk the borders everyday, but Falconshade never showed his face. Whitefang knew this, because the gray tom would always arrive home tired and dejected. Whitefang finally decided she would accompany him on a journey: she would tell him to arrive at the Riverclan border at sunset.

Sunset…

Memories raced through her mind, and immediately Whitefang felt the need to see Falconshade. She padded up to Stormfall, who had been eating alone. With Shiverspots in the medicine cat den and Fadingmist out on constant duties, the tom was left by himself, his only company being his thoughts. Whitefang sat down beside him, and watched the gaunt young warrior. Her heart ached: he was too sweet, too good to feel this kind of pain and carry this kind of burden. Her apprentice needed her, and she had left him behind. Willing him to hear her, she leaned in close.

"Stormfall," She purred gently. His ears, one white and one a soft gray, perked up at the sound of her voice. He swung his head around, green eyes wide.

"Whitefang?" He asked hopefully. Whitefang willed herself to be visible for the young tom, though it sapped her strength quickly.

"My dear apprentice, here I am!" She gasped as the energy in her starry form began to disappear. He turned toward her, and broke out into a white smile.

"Whitefang, we've missed you…" He said quietly.

"I know, I'm so sorry... And I know all you've been doing, Stormfall, to find that kits' father. Thank you for your efforts." She licked his cheek in a motherly way, but he pulled away, holding her gaze.

"I have to find him. He has to know."

"Stormfall, I will walk with you to the Riverclan border at sunset. Though you may not see me, I will be with you. Falconshade will be there too; I know it. And you may tell him then." It hurt to speak, for she was so tired.

"Tonight?" Stormfall asked.

"Tonight. It's been a week, little one, and that is already far too long." She replied sadly. Stormfall's clover green eyes darkened, and he tore his gaze from hers.

"Has it been that long?" He whispered in anguish, "It feels like Timbermask found you only yesterday."

"Chin up, my apprentice. I had my reasons to leave, be they good or bad. We should get going, too. The sun is falling quickly." Whitefang glanced up at the sky, in which the large golden orb was sinking into the sea of emerald canopies. Timbermask was already herding the kits into the nursery, and Whitefang felt a tear come to her eye. Wolfkit- so strong and so much like his father. Blossomkit- lovely and gentle, her white face glowing in the fading light. Hazelkit- sturdy and resilient, quiet and calm, just like his grandmother. They were all so much a part of her as well as Falconshade: they deserved to know their father. Stormfall stood up, abandoning his half-finished supper in favor of their mission. Whitefang felt her visibility fade, and soon she was nothing more than stardust. Stormfall padded through camp and towards the tunnel, and she followed. His strong, steady footsteps reassured her, and his confidence as he followed the well-worn paths soothed her frayed nerves.

_Will he understand? Will he hate me? Will he go to the kits, or will he leave them orphans? Does he feel it? Does he sense it? Has he left me alone? Does he love me? Will he love me? Will he love them? _Foolish questions flooded her heart and scrambled about her mind like frazzled mice. She glimpsed his silhouette over the crest of the hill, and heard the burbling of the nearby river. The river. She could not bring herself to look at it. She heard Stormfall call out beside her:

"Falconshade!" The ginger tabby's ears perked up: he recognized this voice. This voice had brought him news of the kits. His kits. She could tell what he was thinking: _Why is this tom here, and not her?_

"Stormfall?" He asked, his voice rippling through the heavy night air like a stone tossed into a glassy pond. It send shivers down her spine: so familiar, yet so far from her.

"Falconshade, it's me." Stormfall replied, racing up the hill, paws thundering as they hit the ground.

"What is it? Why are you here? Where is she?" The ginger tom pounded her former apprentice with questions, and Whitefang stood by his side, watching and waiting. Falconshade's deep blue eyes searched the darkness, as if she was hiding from him.

"I'd never hide from you." She whispered. He could not hear her, and she wondered if he ever would again. Or if he would want to.

"There's-there's something I have to tell you," Stormfall began cautiously. Falconshade's eyes widened, and his mouth opened slightly as if to say something: he shut it. "It's about Whitefang." Falconshade couldn't take it anymore.

"What happened? Where is she? How is she? She isn't sick, is she? Does she need me?" He asked anxiously, ginger paws kneading the ground.

"She-she's dead." Stormfall whispered. Her mate lost control: He howled with grief the moment the gray tom finished, and threw himself at the ground, shaking with anger and fear and tears. His body shuddered as it was wracked with sobs: bitter groans and tortured cries erupted as he pressed himself to the dirt to stay grounded. Looking up at Stormfall, he gasped:

"Th-this can't be happening. How? W-why? When? Was s-she in p-pain?" His dirty, tear-streaked ace looked so pitiful in the half-light, and Whitefang raced to his side. She pressed against him, though he did not feel her.

"She threw herself in the river. She drowned, and was pretty badly beaten by the current…We found her body a week ago. I'm so sorry." Stormfall hung his head and braced himself for the onslaught. But silence greeted his words.

"A week?" Falconshade whispered finally, "She's been gone for an entire week?" She watched as he swallowed his sobs. "Who's taking care of the kits? My kits? Her parents? How are her parents?" He asked.

"Taking it hard as you are, still. Her, uh, friend is taking care of the kits." Stormfall stammered, "Everyone's been upset." Falconshade looked up at the sky; the now inky blue expanse was speckled with stars. The ginger tom closed his eyes and sighed heavily, a small silver-lit tear trickling down his cheek.

"I love you," He murmured.

"Do you think she can hear us?" Stormfall asked, glancing around as if trying to spot Whitefang's glittering form. The white warrior took a shaky step closer to her mate.

"She can always hear us." Falconshade replied opening his brilliant blue eyes that she'd missed so much. "No matter what happens, even if we lose the ones we love, we do not part in death."

Whitefang choked back her own tears. Her mate…so close, but so far. She reached out a paw to touch him, but it slid right through his thick ginger pelt.

"What will you do now? The kits-" Stormfall began, trailing off when he saw the determination in Falconshade's eyes.

"I'll do what I should've done a long time ago," the Riverclan warrior replied, turning toward Shadowclan territory. "I'll be their father."

**YASSSSSSS BAE**

**For all y'all who were wondering whatever the hell Falconshade's been doing with his life, here you go.**

**QOTD: By "being their father", how will Falconshade react to what Timbermask is doing? Thoughts?**

**Laters gators,**

**~Bright**


	73. Another Little Piece of My Heart

**This one's pretty long. Be warned.**

After the night meeting with Falconshade and Stormfall, the ever exhausted Whitefang went back to her starry heaven for the first time in an entire week. Nothing had changed. She was still greeted by her sister, who looked as if she hadn't slept well in ages.

"Swanmist? Are you alright? You look ill, but that's impossible. Isn't it?" Whitefang mewed, inspecting her sister. Still being new to the ways of Starclan, she was often confused by what the dead could and could not do. But she was pretty sure they could not get sick.

"I'm fine, fine." Swanmist waved off her sister's anxiety like a feather on the breeze. "I just didn't sleep well, that's all." She smiled. "Look at you, all worried. I'm perfectly fine, Whitefang!" The white warrior shook her head.

"Whatever you say, I guess." She replied, beginning to walk across the vast moor she'd appeared on. "Which way's the forest?" Swanmist pointed to the left with her silvery tail and the pair began the trek back home. Whitefang glanced about at the lithe, slender warriors bounding quickly across the rolling, grassy fields. They chased starry rabbits, laughing and calling out to each other, their voices carried on the swift wind. Whitefang watched them in wonder.

"Isn't it funny how the other Clans are so different from us?" Swanmist asked. She, too, was watching the Windclan cats scurry through the tall grasses. Whitefang thought back to her nights spent alongside Falconshade, her heart aching for the days where everything was simpler. She thought about her Thunderclan friends, and how precious their kindness was in her time of need.

"Not all too different." She murmured, looking away. She hadn't thought of her Thunderclan companions in a long, long time. They wouldn't know she was gone. But Sunshine was in Starclan too, wasn't she? Whitefang decided in that moment that she would pay a visit to one of her oldest, dearest friends.

As the sisters reached the woodland border with the moor, Whitefang turned to Swanmist eagerly.

"How would you like to visit Sunshine? She's in the Thunderclan part. I'm sure she'd be pleased to see you again!" She offered. Swanmist shook her head.

"Not today, thanks. I've got, uh, some business to attend to." The silver and white warrior said sheepishly. Whitefang pouted in disappointment, and sighed.

"Alright. Well, take a nap too. You look worn out!" She purred, licking her sister's cheek. Swanmist laughed.

"Will do!" She meowed before padding off into Shadowclan's forest. Whitefang watched her sister go, feeling once again the strained nature of their new bond in death. It had never been like this before. She shook her head, and began her walk through the winding wooded trails to Thunderclan's realm. The paths, so different from those in the real territories, confused her, and she found herself wandering in circles.

"Swanmist!" She called out, "Swanmist!" But her sister was too far away to hear her. Thankfully, someone else came to her aid.

"You look lost," A gentle voice purred. Whitefang turned, and was greeted by large, glowing blue eyes set in a soft golden face.

"Goldenfrost," Whitefang purred, "Hello!"

"Where are you headed? I could walk with you, if you want." The former medicine cat apprentice mewed. Whitefang smiled.

"That would be wonderful,' She said, slightly abashed, "I still don't know my way around here." Goldenfrost started down a small, slender path and Whitefang followed.

"You'll get used to it in time." The pretty gold and white she-cat continued, "Though I'm sure you'd figure it out sooner if you spent less time down on the ground."

"I can't help it," Whitefang sighed, pulling up next to her companion. The she-cat, who was once older than Whitefang, stayed the same age as the day she died. Whitefang had now surpassed her in years lived, and still towered over her. "Wouldn't you stay as long as you could?"

"No," Goldenfrost replied softly.

"Why not?" Whitefang asked.

"Because, it wouldn't have been fair." The golden cat murmured, "Not to me, not to Stonetail, and certainly not to your mother. I was merely a hitch. An obstacle. A fling. I could never truly come between your parents, and Stonetail knew it. I was foolish enough to believe, however, that he loved me. After I died, I could never look back." Whitefang walked alongside her in silence for a moment. But she knew what she had to say.

"There are so many different kinds of love, Goldenfrost." She said gently, "Stonetail loved you, and I knew it. He knew it too. You never went back down after you came here, and you never saw your vigil. My father could hardly speak or move from grief, and Paledove was a bitter, invisible specter that lurked along the corners of his vision. Goldenfrost, when Papa was with you, he taught me one of the purest truths of love: it's never wrong, and it never dies. Your kind of love was one of the most special; it was secret, it was light, it was fun and deep and special all at once. Many cats will say they've never had a love like that. What you two had meant something, Goldenfrost. Believe that."

They walked for a spell without talking, eyes only on the path ahead, minds brimming with words they did not say. Pebbles and small twigs crunched under Whitefang's paws, and she wondered where they were going. She never told Goldenfrost where she was headed, anyway. Starry birds twittered in the trees, and squirrels scampered along branches, but none of those interested Whitefang. She knew that they were not alive; they were not real. She knew that when she bit into them after a long hunt they would not satisfy her hunger, and would not taste of the earthy flavors of life. _Life…_She missed it dreadfully. She had soon sunk into deep reverie when Goldenfrost's voice woke her from her thoughts.

"And what would you know of love, Whitefang, if what you say is true?" The medicine cat asked, her voice shaking almost inaudibly.

"I would know of sneaky kithood crushes, of childish fantasies. I would know of infatuation and mystery, as well as unrequited interest. I would know of friendly affection lightly turned to thoughts of closer encounters. I would know of deep, panging aches of the wildest love, the truest love, the deepest love. I would know of the fragile line between love and hate, and how to cross it. I would know of love in grief, and love in family." Whitefang's mind exploded when she thought of all the cats she'd ever felt in her heart, "Trust me, I know."

"I'm sorry for doubting you," Goldenfrost said once she'd finished, "you've walked a long and difficult path. I should not have questioned your wisdom."

"Goldenfrost, it isn't wisdom." Whitefang purred, "It doesn't come from your mind. It comes from your heart." The pair continued on through the forest until they reached the dying remains of a once proud oak tree, rotted from the core, where the ashy gray presence of decay had spread through the branches.

"And here is where I leave you," Goldenfrost mewed pleasantly, "The Thunderclan border."

"How did you-" Whitefang wondered aloud.

"You don't speak as quietly as you think you do, my friend." Goldenfrost laughed before walking away. "I hope you find who you're looking for!" She called over her shoulder.

Whitefang glanced back to look for Goldenfrost, but she'd vanished into the trees. Shrugging, she turned back around and faced the border.

"Sunshine?" She called, stepping over the scent line and into the Thunderclan section of Starclan. Technically, there were no borders, and cats could roam where they pleased, but the organization of the land still clung to the standards of the territories. She kept walking.

"Sunshine!" She called again, "It's me, Whitefang!"

"Whitefang?!" A stunned voice echoed from the depths of the forest, and a bright yellow face with wide orange eyes peeked out from behind a large oak. "Whitefang! What're you doing here? Are you-? Did you-? What happened?" The Thunderclan warrior raced toward her old friend, embracing her and babbling on and on.

"I am dead," Whitefang admitted when Sunshine stopped speaking, "But I won't go into details now. I've missed you so much!" She purred, and Sunshine smiled meekly.

"I still can't believe you're here. I'd much rather have you alive and far away than dead and close to me. But what's done is done, I guess. Oh, Whitefang!" Sunshine sighed, sitting down heavily on a thick patch of moss. "I'm so, so sorry I haven't been watching you, I've been so busy making sure my mate is alright…what's been going on?" Her brilliant yellow pelt glowed even brighter in its starry form, and reminded Whitefang of rays of sunlight. She looked up at her friend, comforted by the familiar presence and the fact that nothing has changed between them since death.

She told Sunshine everything: from Falconshade, to the kits, to her parents, to Timbermask, to Emberpaw, to Stormfall. She also mentioned Fogfrost, and their gathering of memories. Sunshine listened intently, leaning forward and asking questions at all the right times. Whitefang had missed having someone close to her, someone who would listen and understand, someone who'd hear her.

"Oh, Whitefang." Sunshine repeated, shaking her head. "Great Starclan, you've gone through so much. I wish I'd been there. Oh, I wish I'd been there to help you!" Her friend became teary eyes, and Whitefang hushed her gently.

"And what about you? You haven't said anything about the accident, or about the cats in Thunderclan. Fogfrost and his kits, his mate, are they all okay? And what about Robinfoot and her family? Appleclaw and his?" the cream colored tom's name tasted sour on her tongue as she remembered the incident on the border, but she still asked after him. They'd been close once, after all. Sunshine sucked in a deep breath before beginning her tale.

"The accident was horrid, Whitefang. The monster came at me so fast and the pain was so quick I couldn't even think. I rose from my body really fast, and I didn't realize I was dead until I heard Smoketail scream. He never screams, Whitefang, he's always so calm, so collected. I love him, Whitefang! And now he's young and without a mate. Soon, he'll forget all about me. He brought my body home, and I watched the vigil. It was so terrible, so sad. I don't think I stayed for all of it. My mother was so upset, and my brother…he couldn't even look at me, and he blamed Smoketail for the whole thing…said it should've been him instead of me. When I came ere, my father welcomed me in. He died when I was so small, I hardly remembered him. But now we're closer than ever.

I've been watching them for a while now, and so far everyone seems to be doing well. Fogfrost and Birchrunner's kits have all been made warrior's, bless their hearts, and they have another litter on the way. Their names were wonderful: Cedarheart, Smokeclaw, Hawkflight, and Owlgaze. Fogfrost still dotes on his only daughter, and all the toms are after her. The three toms are quite the charmers as well!

Robinfoot is doing well, She and Pinenose watched their kits be apprenticed just the other day. Fogfrost is a terrific uncle, and the kits adore their entire family. They're lovely too: five beautiful brown tabbies, they all look like their mother when she was that age! Of course, three of them have Pinenose's eyes and those amber gazes are stunning, but two have Robinfoot's blue. Smallpaw, Sweetpaw, Fennelpaw, Oakpaw, and Tumblepaw. Clearly, their parents see no need to go through the whole ordeal of raising five kits again.

Appleclaw and Fernheart…they've broken up. He left her with their one kit. They had two, at first, both gray tabbies like their mother. The she-kit – she was weak from the start – died after getting greencough. She was sickly all the way through her short life, and Appleclaw never seemed to care. Poor little Leafkit. And her brother, Stonekit, is now Stonepaw. He always tries to win his father's afections, but it won't happen. He looks too much like Fernheart. I don't know if Appleclaw will take another mate, but he's sure turned into the crankiest tom I've ever seen!" Sunshine wrapped up her Thunderclan summary, and Whitefang sighed.

"No kit should ever be neglected by their parent," She frowned, "Even if their parents are no longer together."

"You of all cats would know that." Sunshine nodded, "Maybe you should visit and give him a piece of your mind."

"He hates me," Whitefang protested.

"You should." Sunshine repeated stubbornly. Whitefang sighed miserably and traced circles in the dirt with a stray paw. _I do miss what we once had, _She thought, _But is it worth reliving all the pain when I see him again? He tried to kill me, he severed all ties to his friends…and he neglects his only son. _She was reminded of being that kit: the one who was unloved by her mother, and the void that Paledove had left in her kithood, her apprenticeship, and most of her life. She wouldn't be able to live with herself if she didn't help Appleclaw's son. No kit deserved it.

"Fine." Whitefang said, her voice stronger than it had been. "I'll talk to him." Sunshine smiled.

"You're the absolute best cat I've ever met!" Her friend purred. Whitefang rolled her eyes.

"No need to go that far," She mumbled. The pair sat and chatted over the mundane for a while longer: how Whitefang likes Starclan, what the prey is like, a fox that had been spotted in Thunderclan, Whitefang's adventures in twolegplace. Whitefang felt happy for one of the first times ever in the afterlife: she was with one of her best friends, it was warm and bright in the forest, and she no longer thought about how the creatures and sounds were not real. In fact, now they seemed just to be the comforts of home. In the middle of a story, however, there came a loud thrashing noise: something or someone was crashing through the forest behind them. Both she-cats immediately leapt up, old warrior instincts never forgotten as they braced themselves. A gasping, panting golden and white form smashed through a thorn bush and skidded to a halt before the pair.

"Goldenfrost?" Whitefang mewed in disbelief.

"Falconshade!" The she-cat managed to get out between sharp intakes of breath, "Here…in Shadowclan!"

"He's arrived? He's there?" Whitefang asked quickly.

"Kits!" Goldenfrost heaved, "Timbermask…kits…"

"Just tell me!" Whitefang meowed impatiently.

"Hurry!" Goldenfrost wheezed. Whitefang was hit with a sudden revelation. _"I'll be their father." _She had thought he meant he was going to Shadowclan. But…there was nothing left for him in Shadowclan. She knew exactly what Falconshade was going to do.

"Great Starclan…" She whispered. Then, bounding off into the forest, she left her friends behind. As she ran, she closed her eyes and willed herself down into the forest world below. _Please, please, please…don't let me be too late…_

Opening them, Whitefang quickly glanced around, judging her distance from camp while still moving at a quick pace. She lept over branches and trickling streams, striving to reach Shadowclan camp. She had to be there; she had to! Swerving and twisting as she followed the paths that she knew like the back of her own paw, Whitefang hurried through the marshland like a harried snowshoe hare in the dead of winter. She could hear the dissent from far away: all her clanmates' voices echoing across the forest at thundering volumes.

Finally, she reached the tunnel, out of breath and frightened for what she'd find. As she hurtled through the mess of brambles and ferns, one voice out of the many shouts became perfectly clear:

"I'm taking them _home_!"

Falconshade stood in the center of camp, his head held high and proud as he surveyed the Clan that outnumbered him twenty to one. His blue eyes shone with a light she'd never seen before: he was determined to take his children home.

"Who is he?" Someone hissed angrily.

"Who does he think he is?"

"What is he doing here?"

"He stinks of Riverclan!"

"Leave, Riverclanner!"

"Swim away like one of those skunky fish you eat!"

"You're not welcome here!"

Falconshade took the insults in stride and stood firm in the center of the crowd. His two cohorts, a pair of burly Riverclan warriors, stood at either side of the tunnel, poised to flee.

"I'm here to take my kits home," He said simply. Icegaze stepped forward, his silver eyes as cold as stone.

"There are no kits here for you!" He snarled, claws unsheathed. Whitefang watched her Clan nervously, waiting for Timbermask to say something. But the pale brown tabby was silent in the back of the mob, his emerald eyes dark as midnight. _Say something!_ She wanted to scream.

"Wolfkit?" Falconshade called. Whitefang watched as every cat froze. They glanced warily at each other, wondering how this strange tom knew that name. "Blossomkit! Hazelkit! Where are you?" The ginger tabby scanned the crowd for his children, his voice growing anxious. "Come on, you three. I don't bite!"

"Yeah, right!" Grayshadow growled. Whitefang watched as her mother stepped forward, crystal blue eyes balls of furious ice.

"Those kits are not yours!" She hissed, "They are my daughter's and Timbermask's! How dare you-"

"Paledove," Falconshade said gently. The pale silver warrior stopped speaking, clearly stunned by the recognition. "They _are_ my kits. Whitefang's and mine. I'm here to take them home with me." Whitefang glanced from her mother to her father, and saw Stonetail's golden eyes widen. Her father looked from Falconshade down to Timbermask's paws. Whitefang assumed that's where her children stood. Then, her looked from the tom to the kits again. A spark of recognition flared in his gaze, but the gray tom said nothing. He only stared, slack jawed, at the ginger tabby.

"Whitefang would never betray her Clan!" Cherrynose howled furiously from the nursery. Her face poked out from the dark depths of the den, dark blue eyes narrowed and angry. "Never!"

"They are his kits," A small voice said shakily from the crowd. Whitefang watched as Stormfall stepped out, sadness in his gaze as he went to stand beside Falconshade. "They are his kits and Timbermask knows it." Every cat turned to stare at the brown tabby tom, who fought their eyes with his, challenging anyone and everyone who dared question his fatherhood.

"Stormfall! How could she not tell us, if this is really true?" Waterfall demanded. Whitefang felt her heart pang as she saw the hurt in her former mentor's eyes. Blueshine and Addershriek nodded, stunned by the thought that the kits were not theirs by blood.

"She did not see it as betrayal," Stormfall said, his voice growing stronger, "only as love. And as a wise cat once said: Love is never wrong, and so it never dies." Stonetail's eyes welled with tears. "Clearly, this love did not die with Whitefang. Just look at him: do you not see it? He is their father, and therefore has a right to act as one."

"No!" Paledove cried.

"Would Whitefang want this petty squabbling over her kits?" Stormfall challenged her. The crowd went silent. Looking at each other and the tom with fury and disbelief. Even Hollowstar was speechless. Then, a squeaky-small voice piped up from the back.

"Is it true?" Whitefang watched in astonishment as Wolfkit made his way through the barrier of cats and stood before his true father curiously. "Are you really my Papa?" Falconshade's blue eyes softened, and he leaned down to see eye to eye with his son.

"It is true." He replied gently.

"Then why didn't you stay with us?" Wolfkit asked, hurt. Falconshade sighed heavily.

"Because your mother was a very careful cat. She had just gotten her mother back, and was worried about losing her again. She did what she thought was best for all of us, and that was keeping me away. It was only supposed to be for a little while. I promised her I'd join Shadowclan to be with her, I'd do whatever it took to be your Papa." He explained carefully. By now, Blossomkit had joined her brother. Hazelkit was cautiously making his way toward them, golden eyes narrow and wary.

"Did Mama love you?" Blossomkit wondered, "If she did, why did she keep you away?"

"I think your mama had a very hard life sometimes, and she made decisions based on what she thought was right. I loved her, and she loved me, but sometimes that's not all that matters." Falconshade murmured, eyes betraying his pain.

"Do you love us?" Hazelkit mewed.

"Of course I love you! I love you with all my heart. And that's why I'm taking you home." The ginger tabby said.

"You can't take them!" Timbermask exploded from the back, pushing his way toward Falconshade. "I won't let you!" the kits turned and stared, wide eyed, at their foster father.

"But he's our Papa too," Wolfkit whispered.

"We should go home." Falconshade said quickly, standing up. Hollowstar looked at him with great sadness.

"Don't let him take them!" Paledove screamed.

"Gramma!" Blossomkit cried out in fear as Addershriek went to hold her back.

"As their true father, it is only right that the kits stay with their remaining parent…" Hollowstar said, his voice empty and emotionless.

"No!" Paledove shrieked.

"…and therefore, Falconshade may return with the kits to his Clan, as his next of kin by blood."

"You can't do this!" Timbermask howled.

"Are you ready to go?" Falconshade asked the kits calmly, ignoring the chaos. Wolfkit glanced over his shoulder at his family.

"But-"

"Yes," Blossomkit mewed in a small voice.

"Do we really have a choice?" Hazelkit asked himself, staring at his foster father. Stonetail had leapt forward and pinned Timbermask to the ground as Addershriek barred Paledove from the kits, trying to mask her hysteria. Timbermask snarled from beneath Stonetail, desperately trying to claw his way to the kits.

"Don't leave with him! Stay, stay with me!" He called. Hazelkit turned away.

"Please! Please, not them! Anything but them!" Paledove wailed as the last three parts of her daughter were taken away. Wolfkit was the only one who still watched their struggle.

"Wolfkit! My son, my beautiful, beautiful little warrior…don't go." Timbermask pleaded, crying. He reached for the little tom from between the bars of his new prison.

"We should really be going." Falconshade murmured, lifting the ragged white kit up in his jaws as gently as possible. His two compatriots joined his, each taking a kit in their mouth a delicately as possible. Paledove screamed bloody murder, and Timbermask called their names. But the ginger tabby and his clanmates were already leaving. The rest of the Clan watched in stunned silence as the final part of Whitefang was taken from them. With a final swish of his ginger tabby tail, Falconshade had disappeared.

"Let me go," Timbermask sobbed, "let me go, I have to get them! I have to bring them back…Whitefang!" He moaned. The starry warrior had to look away.

"My daughter!" Paledove screeched as Addershriek let her go. She collapsed on the dusty ground, pounding her paws into the dirt in agony as Stonetail watched on, his gaze misty and tired. "My daughter, my daughter, my daughter…"

**QOTD: Your reaction to the day's events/thoughts on the characters' actions/reactions? (Swanmist, Sunshine, Whitefang, Paledove, Timbermask, Stonetail, Falconshade, Kits, etc)**

**That was a quick update, and now I have to go plan the next chapter! May take a little while...from now on POV will be mainly Whitefang's Starclan interactions and her watching the kits in Riverclan.**

**Laters gators! (I think this may be my new catchphrase)**

**~Bright**


	74. Blue on Blue

Whitefang hated to leave her family, but she followed her mate out of Shadowclan camp. The kits protested weakly, but only Wolfkit stayed completely still. The young tom was pensive, staring out at the territory as his father carried him to Riverclan. The kits' blue eyes matched Falconshade's, and Whitefang felt her heart melt a little as she saw her son and her mate pad through the wilderness. _This was not how it was supposed to be._ She thought sadly. _You were never supposed to meet like this._ She decided it was for the best, Falconshade taking them away. He was their closest blood relative, and, with Timbermask in Shadowclan playing Papa, Falconshade would never be their true father. Whitefang understood it all. But that didn't mean she had to like it. The white warrior wondered whom her kits would meet in Riverclan, and she knew they wouldn't be accepted easily.

As the patrol crossed the border, Wolfkit took one last look at Shadowclan's dark marshes and pine forests. His blue eyes grew misty, but he turned away. Facing the open skies and low-lying shrubs that defined Riverclan territory, the young tom took in the vast open space and extensive network of babbling brooks and slithering streams that crisscrossed the tall grasses and swampy earth. Long, feathery white clouds drifted lazily above them like the lost plumage of a giant swan. Silver fish darted through and lept out of shimmering, clear water as frogs croaked deep, throbbing melodies on the riverbanks. Birds flitted through the sweeping fronds of the willow trees, whose leaves danced over the glassy surfaces of nearby streams. Whitefang had never seen anything more beautifully mesmerizing or peaceful than Riverclan.

"Welcome home," Falconshade murmured. As the patrol continued, Whitefang watched as her kits took in their new territory with wide eyes. Hazelkit squirmed in the mouth of his escort, trying to see al of what would be his new home. Blossomkit stared, unblinking, at the water.

"Will we have to swim?" She wondered. Falconshade laughed.

"Yes, of course you will. You're half Riverclan after all. Its in your blood!" He purred.

"Are you sure?" She asked skeptically, her green eyes large and doubtful.

"I promise you'll love it." Her father mewed, his voice assuring. They continued in silence, and Whitefang assumed they were approaching the entrance to camp. She watched as the three warriors crossed a series of stepping stones easily, and set foot on a triangle of land between two merging streams. They were greeted by a multitude of cats, all silent. Watching.

"You have them, then?" A voice emanated from the back of the camp, where a dark silver tabby she-cat, one of the most beautiful creatures Whitefang had ever seen, exited a den. Kits tumbled out behind her, peeking at the newcomers curiously.

"They're not very big!" One blue-gray tom mewed, his pale gold eyes shining as he watched Falconshade place Wolfkit gently down on the ground. The little white tom took his first steps on Riverclan territory, and stepped out to greet the other kit.

"I'm two moons old," He said slowly, "So I'm not big yet. But one day, I will be as big and brave as my mother." Blossomkit and Hazelkit, also on the ground, stood beside their brother. Each held their head up high and met the stares of their new clanmates evenly. Falconshade seemed to note that they inherited their mother's pride.

"This is Wolfkit, Blossomkit, and Hazelkit." The ginger tabby said, gesturing to each one in turn, "And they are my kits. My kits with Whitefang." The silver leader stepped forward, her fiery amber gaze boring into the young cats.

"I remember your mother," Shimmerstar sniffed disdainfully. "Shadowclan, and just about as stubborn as they come."

"You can't-" Wolfkit protested.

"Don't interrupt!" Shimmerstar snapped, "I wasn't finished. She may have been bullheaded and brash, but she was one of the strongest cats I've ever seen. I do hope you live up to be both your mother and your father, kits. But you must realize: Riverclan is your home now. Your loyalty belongs to us and us alone. Are we clear?"

Wolfkit acknowledged the she-cat's power over them, and was assured of his respect for her when she complimented Whitefang. The warrior was stunned that the Riverclan leader would say such kind things, and had not thought so highly of Shimmerstar before. She watched her son nod, and his siblings followed suit.

"Understood." Falconshade said, speaking for his kits.

"Then this meeting is dismissed. There's work to be done!" The silver tabby said, turning around to face her Clan. "Streamrunner, send out the patrols! Lighthawk, Duskheart, please gather the elders and meet with me immediately!" Whitefang watched the leader leave, and looked down at her kits. Their father was crouched next to them, speaking softly.

"I know it's new, and its different, and it's a little scary. But this is your home now. I promise you'll be alright. I love you." He licked each of their cheeks, and Blossomkit purred weakly. Hazelkit sighed, and glanced around like a cornered rabbit. Wolfkit met his father's blue gaze. Blue on blue clashed, and the kit spoke.

"You made us leave our family. Mama's parents…our friends, too. Timbermask. Do we have family here?" He asked.

"You have me," Falconshade purred, "And your uncle, aunts, and cousins. They're coming now!" the kits turned, and Whitefang looked up. A slight, pale gray tom with eyes the same hue as Falconshade's, if not a shade darker, was approaching them. Beside him was a pretty cream pelted she-cat with lemon yellow eyes. Beside them trotted four apprentices: a dark gray tom, his tail ringed with darker gray stripes, a white tom with a cream colored face and legs, a white she-cat, and a light gray she-cat with a darker stripe down her back. A pretty pale ginger she-cat followed.

"Who are they?" Hazelkit asked.

"Your family," Falconshade purred. The pale gray tom smiled.

"Hello, kits!" He greeted them warmly, blue eyes soft and bright. Whitefang noted the resemblance to her mate: the shape of the head, the width of the shoulders, the line of the jaw. But their eyes…they were almost the same.

"This is your uncle, my brother Waverunner. This is his mate, Shymoon, and their kits: Smokepaw, Talonpaw, Egretpaw, and Fallowpaw." Each cat nods as their name is said, and Egretpaw leans down to touch the kits' foreheads gently with her nose.

"You are all so cute! I've always wanted little cousins." She mewed happily.

"And this is your cousin, my other brother's daughter, Tansyfoot." The pale ginger she-cat smiled.

"Hello, little ones. How are you feeling?" Tansyfoot asked kindly.

"A little hungry." Wolfkit admitted.

"It's so different here…" Blossomkit whispered. "I miss Mama."

"I miss Paledove and Stonetail." Hazelkit whimpered.

"I miss Timbermask." Wolfkit mumbled. Falconshade's eyes betrayed his hurt, and Whitefang pressed against him, willing her mate to feel her presence and take some strength. Falconshade let out a short breath.

"Whitefang?" He whispered.

"Be patient, my love. They've had two moons to adjust to life in Shadowclan, and not even a day with you. My darling, do be patient." She sighed.

"I'm trying, Whitefang." He breathed, "I just want them to be _my_ kits. I want to be their father. I want them to love both of us, all of us!"

"Be patient, be kind." Whitefang reminded him. She watched as her mate sighed, and as he began to show the kits around camp. Curious and occasionally hostile gazes greeted them as they wandered about, poking into dens. Their cousins tried to start a rousing game of mossball, but the wary threesome avoided their cheerful relatives.

By the end of the evening, the kits were exhausted, and Falconshade led them to the nursery. Whitefang watched as a queen, Duststripe, offered the trio spots in her nest beside her kits, who were about the same age. Whitefang's heart glowed as her mate politely declined, instead electing to make a new nest for himself and the kits. As Wolfkit, Blossomkit, and Hazelkit settled in for the night, Whitefang wondered what morning would bring. She lay down beside her family, and closed her eyes, their slow heavy breaths lulling her to sleep.

She woke in the middle of the night to quiet whimpers and a soft rustling.

"Wolfkit, Wolfkit what're you doing?" Blossomkit whined. Whitefang glanced over at her kits, and found her son shaking his sister, Hazelkit already awake and by his side.

"We're going back home." Wolfkit mewed firmly.

"Home?" Blossomkit asked, peering up at her brothers. "To Shadowclan?"

"That's right!" Hazelkit grinned, "We're going back home. No one can make us live here!"

"We're gonna escape!" Wolfkit explained, "And we're going to sneak out across the stepping stones. And then we'll cross the border, and be back in the nursery with Timbermask and Duckflight and Cherrynose and Doestep! And we'll see Paledove and Stonetail and everything will be just like it used to be."

"No, it won't be." Blossomkit said quietly.

"And why not?" Hazelkit asked irritably. "We'd be where we belong."

"Because," Blossomkit mewed, "Timbermask isn't really our Papa."

"How do you know he isn't lying?" Wolfkit growled, pointing to the dozing Falconshade. Blossomkit shook her head.

"Don't you see it? We look just like him." She replied. Wolfkit glanced at his siblings, and then back at the dark ginger tabby.

"Just because you're the same color as him doesn't mean we're related." He argued.

"Well, actually, you have the same color eyes." Hazelkit pointed out.

"So?" Wolfkit muttered, "Timbermask was there for Mama. He wasn't!"

"Do you think escaping would actually solve anything? They'd just come back and take us again!" Blossomkit sighed. "I think, if Mama really loved him, then that's good enough for me."

"Well, maybe for you, but not for me!" Wolfkit snapped, "Hazelkit, let's go."

"We can't leave her here alone," The brown tabby tom mewed uncertainly. "I don't know, Wolfkit. Maybe we should stay."

"You, too?" Wolfkit whined. Hazelkit nodded, golden eyes glowing. Whitefang felt a swell of pride for her levelheaded son. Blossomkit reached up for her other brother.

"Wolfkit, just give it a chance. Mama loved him, so we can too, right?" She said softly.

"If Mama loved any of us so much, why did she leave?" Wolfkit asked them bitterly, "If she really loved us, she would've stayed!" _My baby, it's not that simple…_Whitefang thought desperately.

"Maybe she didn't have a choice," Hazelkit offered.

"Or maybe she had a reason?" Blossomkit added. Wolfkit shook his head.

"No way. We have to go home." He said.

"Just give it a moon, Wolfkit!" Blossomkit squeaked hurriedly as her brother began to walk away. Wolfkit looked at her, and then at Hazelkit. He sighed.

"Fine. One moon." The white tom agreed, "But if he doesn't prove he loves us, and that he really is our Papa by then, we're leaving."

"Alright," Hazelkit agreed, Blossomkit nodding. "One moon."

"Promise?" Wolfkit asked seriously.

"I promise." Hazelkit and Blossomkit chorused.

Whitefang felt the urge to comfort her kits, to tell them about their father and convince them of his affection. But she could not. _I cannot contact them, I cannot say anything. If they want Falconshade to prove his worth, then he has to do it alone. No matter how much it hurts. _Whitefang watched her kits curl back up together, closer through their new bond of a promise. _Promises are powerful things, my darlings. Do not make those that you do not wish to keep._

* * *

><p><strong><em><span>Alliances<span>_**

**_Shadowclan:_**

_Leader: _Hollowstar- dark tortoiseshell tom, green eyes (Mate: Featherfall)

Deputy: Stonetail- gray tom with a white splash on his chest, golden eyes, and flecks of silver creeping onto his muzzle (Mate: Paledove, formerly Goldenfrost)

_Medicine cat: _Shiverspots -very pale gray she-cat with flecks of white like leopard spots all over her fur

_Warriors:_

Kestrelwind- dappled cinnamon she-cat, amber eyes

Dawnstrike- red tabby tom with a long tail and amber eyes (Mate: Mothwhisker)

Blueshine- silver-blue she-cat with light green eyes (Mate: Addershriek)

Addershriek- dark brown tom with hazel eyes (Mate: Blueshine)

Waterfall- pale gray she-cat with dark gray paws, green eyes (Mate: Icegaze)

Icegaze- white tom with silver eyes (Mate: Waterfall)

Grayshadow- thick furred gray and black tom with hazel eyes (Mate: Doestep)

Paledove- light silver she-cat, glowing blue eyes (Mate: Stonetail)

Featherfall- dappled brown she-cat with bright copper eyes (Mate: Hollowstar)

Rainwing- silver-blue she-cat with mint green eyes

Apprentice- Sorrelpaw

Timbermask- brown tabby tom with deep green eyes (Mate: Formerly Swanmist, "formerly" Whitefang)

Bouncestrike- sleek black tom with amber eyes (Mate: Cherrynose)

Sparrowtail- dark tortie tom with a bright white tail tip and green eyes

Apprentice- Honeypaw

Blizzardpelt- black tom with white legs, underbelly and flecks on his head, green eyes (Mate: Duckflight)

Fadingmist- feisty silver/blue eyed she-cat with a black muzzle, paws, and tail tip, the rest of her fur a gradient of grays

Stormfall- large gray furred tom with one white ear, and shining clover green eyes

Lightheart- cheerful golden tom with a white face, stomach, chest, and paws, red-amber eyes like his father (Mate: Rosefoot)

Apprentice- Aspenpaw

Mothwhisker- dusty brown she-cat, frail and slender, with light green eyes (Mate: Dawnstrike)

Rosefoot-red tabby she-cat with amber eyes (Mate: Lightheart)

Pinetail- dusty brown tom with a tabby striped tail and amber eyes

_Apprentices_:

Aspenpaw- mottled black and brown tom with a round face and amber eyes

Sorrelpaw- black furred tom with deep blue eyes

Honeypaw- pretty little tortoiseshell with golden dapples and golden/amber eyes

Emberpaw- dark red pelted tom with amber/gold streaks and bright golden eyes like sunshine

_Queens_:

Duckflight- dark ginger she-cat with shining blue eyes, mother to Blizzardelt's daughter Badgerkit (orange and black she-kit with badger-like markings and blue eyes)

Doestep- dappled brown she-cat with wide copper eyes (Expecting Grayshadow's kits)

Cherrynose-dark tortoiseshell she-cat, round face and deep blue eyes (Her and Bouncestrike's second litter: Nightkit- black she-cat with deep blue eyes; Frecklekit- black tom with brown flecks throughout his pelt and amber eyes; Scorchkit- brown tom with black ears and deep blue eyes; Wildkit- black tom with one blue eye and one fiery amber eye)

_Elders_:

Frecklestep- dark gray tom flecked with white, yellow eyes

Jumpfire- Black tom with a dark orange blaze on his forehead, dull copper eyes

_**Thunderclan**_

_Leader_: Dewstar- large gray tom with amber eyes

_Deputy_: Nightblaze- Pure black tom with white paws and blue eyes

_Medicine cat_: Lilyshine- dark tabby she-cat with white patches, green eyes

_Warriors_:

Appleclaw- Large, handsome cream colored tom, ice blue eyes

Fogfrost- Moody, handsome silver tom, green eyes

Cedarheart- cream tabby tom with amber eyes

Smokeclaw- silver tom with green eyes

Hawkflight- silver tom with amber eyes

Owlgaze- dilute tortie (cream, white, gray) she-cat with green eyes

Smoketail- gray tom with yellow eyes

Robinfoot- beautiful brown tabby she-cat, amber eyes

Pinenose- black and white tom with amber eyes and a white, pinecone shaped mark above his nose

Fernheart- gray tabby with dull yellow eyes

_Apprentices_:

Smallpaw- brown tabby she-cat with amber eyes

Sweetpaw- brown tabby she-cat with blue eyes

Fennelpaw- brown tabby she-cat with blue eyes

Oakpaw- brown tabby tom with amber eyes

Tumblepaw- brown tabby tom with amber eyes

Stonepaw- gray tabby tom with dark yellow eyes

_Queens_:

Birchrunner- cream tabby she-cat with amber eyes (Expecting her second litter with Fogfrost)

**_Windclan_:**

_Leader_: Wildstar- fawn colored she-cat with pale gold eyes

_Deputy_: Barkscar- white and dark tabby tom with one green eye and one amber eye

_Medicine cat_: Daypetal- white she-cat with one golden paw and pale blue eyes

**_Riverclan_:**

_Leader_: Shimmerstar- dark silver tabby she-cat, amber eyes (Mate: Jaystrike)

_Deputy_: Streamrunner- silver she-cat with blue eyes

_Medicine_ _cat_: Bramblestorm-dark golden tom with thick fur and hazel eyes

_Warriors_:

Troutfur-large brown tom (Mate: Softberry)

Hazelnose-skinny brown and white she-cat, green eyes

Flintfoot-brindle-pelted tom with shining blue eyes

Apprentice- Smokepaw

Falconshade- thick pelted dark ginger tabby tom with summer-sky blue eyes (Mate: Whitefang)

Tansyfoot- pale ginger she-cat with glowing hazel eyes

Slightfur- light silver she-cat with wide golden eyes

Swallowtail- caramel-brown tom with amber eyes

Mallowheart- caramel-brown she-cat with one white paw and amber eyes

Rushsong-caramel-brown she-cat with a white splash on her chest and golden eyes

Waverunner- slender, pale gray tabby tom with a long tail, wide paws, and blue eyes a shade darker than Falconshade's (Mate: Shymoon)

Crowshade- dark gray tom with hazel eyes (Mate: Lilystep)

Shymoon- cream/white pelted she-cat with lemon yellow eyes (Mate: Waverunner)

Rowanleap- cinnamon colored tom with copper eyes and long legs (Mate: Duststripe)

Beechfang- white tom with pale brown tabby stripes and amber eyes

Apprentice- Egretpaw

Cloverspots- brown and white spotted she-cat with large dark blue eyes

Creekfall- slender gray-brown tabby tom with large ears and big blue eyes (Mate: Ambercloud)

Apprentice- Talonpaw

Firbreeze- gorgeous long furred gray she-cat with shining green eyes and one white paw

Lighthawk- tall, sturdy, and strong tom with light silver tabby fur and the same flaming amber eyes as Shimmerstar

Liontail- golden brown long furred tom with gold eyes (Mate: Rushsong)

Jaystrike- blue-gray tom with white paws and pale gold eyes

Duskheart- dark silver tom with hazel eyes

Apprentice- Fallowpaw

_Apprentices_:

Smokepaw- dark gray tom with darker rings along his tail

Talonpaw- white tom with a cream face and paws

Egretpaw- white she-cat

Fallowpaw- light gray fluffy she-cat with a thick dark gray stripe down her back

_Queens_:

Duststripe- cream tabby she-cat with gray eyes (Mother to Rowanleap's kits: Finchkit- cinnamon colored she-kit with copper eyes and Reedkit- cream tabby tom with gray eyes)

Lilystep- dilute tortie (gray, cream and white) with copper eyes (Mother to Crowshade's kits: Hailkit- gray tom with blue eyes; Frostkit- gray and white patched she-kit with blue eyes; Goosekit- dark gray tom with copper eyes)

Softberry- pretty pale brown she-cat with white paws and green eyes (Expecting Troutfur's kits)

Ambercloud- red tabby she-cat with bright green eyes (Expecting Creekfall's kits)

Shimmerstar (Mother to Jaystrike's kits: Larchkit- blue-gray she-cat with a white splash on her chest and fiery amber eyes; Mintkit-dark silver tabby she-kit with pale gold eyes; Otterkit- blue-gray tom with pale gold eyes; Pikekit- dark blue-gray tom with white paws and a white tail tip and fiery amber eyes)

_Elders_:

Stonebelly- old, gray furred tom with a plump white belly and heavy lidded amber eyes. Hearing impaired.

Smallwhisker- gentle, pale gold she-cat with failing blue eyes

Rustclaw- ruddy, brownish red tom with shining hazel eyes and naturally red-tinted claws

_**Twolegplace/Sanctum:**_

Sofia- pale golden she-cat with golden-amber eyes

Yara- golden tabby she-cat with curious amber eyes and a scar running across the right side of her face and along her shoulder

Addie- soft pelted pale brown and white she-cat with amber eyes

Shadow- black tom kit

Tamerlan- mottled brown and gold she-kit

Casper- dark tortie tom kit

Evin- dark tortie she-kit

Alpha- scarred, glossy-furred brown tom with darker legs, tail, and muzzle with deep green eyes and a permanent sneer (Mate: See Purdah)

Sharice- slender black she-cat with yellow eyes like daggers and a short temper

Rudy- a tom of unknown description; Sharice's former mate

Snake- ragged gray tom with long, hooked fangs

Chudo- tom of unknown description

Nero- dirty, reddish-brown tom with a heavy brow and venom-like green eyes

Persephone- rich brown pelted she-cat with darker brown paws and deep green eyes and a gentle smile

_She-cats in Alpha's Purdah:_

Ahmar- a stunningly gorgeous crimson furred she-cat with streaks of gold and amber and eyes as pale gold as sunshine

Jalousi- sly, midnight-black she-cat with pale silver eyes

Naivita- young white she-cat with long whiskers and large pale blue eyes

Valona- elegant, long furred golden tabby she-cat with bright green eyes and small paws

Teo- small, dainty pale brown she-cat with shimmering dark blue eyes and a white face

Fulvia- beautiful calico she-cat with amber eyes

Renee- slender pale gray she-cat with light green eyes

Malachy- white she-cat with golden eyes flecked with amber

Tarn- powerful dark brown she-cat with glittering hazel eyes

Zira- competitive, manipulative red tabby she-cat with blue eyes so dark they look black

Una- blind, lovely silver tabby with clouded golden eyes

Yvette- lithe and quick dark gray she-cat with pale amber eyes

Bonnie- fluffy orange she-cat with dark green eyes

Enema- sleek furred black and white she-cat with dark yellow eyes

**Updated Alliances, per request! Anyway, i added the whole (Mate:_) part just so we can keep track of all the relationships happening in here. Can you spot all of the kits' Riverclan relatives?**

**QOTD: What do you think of Riverclan life? **

**Laters gators!**

**~Bright**


	75. Code Breaker, Law Shaker

**note: Streamrunner of Riverclan has been changed to Streamdash, because they were originally a reader's OC, but I felt they required different characterization to keep the story flowin. therefore, they are now my own character, not a borrowed one.**

The next morning, Whitefang woke to the smell of fresh fish. It was not a skunky, foul smell, and she was surprised to find a large, gutted carp lying on a smooth stone next to the nest. She saw Falconshade standing over it, observing his handiwork proudly, and glancing towards his sleeping kits with eager anticipation bright in his gaze. Hazelkit stirred first, nose twitching and golden eyes flickering open. At first, the small brown tabby didn't realize where he was.

"Timbermask?" He asked groggily, stretching his forelegs as his tiny paws kneaded the mossy nest. Falconshade's face fell. As Hazelkit blinked, easing his eyes into the waking world, the young tom seemed to be hit with the realization that he was not in Shadowclan. He whirled around, staring at the nursery. "Where am I?" He propped himself up in the nest, golden eyes as large as saucers.

"You're in Riverclan," Falconshade said gently, taking a step toward his son. Hazelkit faced his father and did a double take.

"W-what?" He stammered.

"You came here yesterday with me?" Falconshade reminded him. Hazelkit nodded vaguely.

"Oh, right." He mewed, slightly dejected. "I'm not home."

"This is your new home!" Falconshade purred enthusiastically, trying to get his kit to smile, "But only if you let it be." He nudged the fish forward with his paw, looking down at Hazelkit with a soft smile.

"I got up early and caught you some breakfast. It's carp, special from the Silver Stream." The ginger tabby explained, watching his son as Hazelkit inspected the strange prey dubiously.

"We're supposed to eat this stuff?" He asked, warily sniffing the fanned tail of the large fish. His father nodded.

"Well, yes." Falconshade said, surprised. "We're Riverclan! We swim and fish." Hazelkit pouted.

"You don't have any vole? Or some starling?" He wondered hopefully, wrinkling his nose as he glanced down at his "breakfast".

"Just try it," Falconshade coaxed.

"What if I don't like it?" Hazelkit argued.

"If you don't like it, I will go out and catch you something else." Falconshade offered.

"Really?" Hazelkit pressed.

"I'd catch every piece of prey in the territories to find something you liked. You're my kit. It's what fathers do." Falconshade purred, "Come, now. Just a bite." Hazelkit screwed up his face and braced himself for impact before leaning down. Opening his little pink mouth wide, he prepared to bite.

"Wait!" Wolfkit cried, scrambling over to his brother before Hazelkit had a chance to try the fish. "How do we know it's not poisoned?" He asked, looking up at Falconshade suspiciously.

"Why would you-" Hazelkit began to ask, but Falconshade cleared his throat and interrupted. The ginger tabby dipped his head to his second son, and bent down. Taking a large bite of carp, he chewed it slowly. Wolfkit watched the warrior swallow, the fish traveling quickly down his throat in one gulp. They waited a moment, both young toms staring up at the tabby with wide, waiting eyes. Falconshade met their gazes patiently.

"Satisfied?" He asked pleasantly. "I think it was delicious." Hazelkit shot Wolfkit a look, a blatant 'I told you so, dummy' before crouching down and taking a dainty bite of his breakfast. Falconshade and Whitefang watched him intently: the young tom squeezed his eyes shut and chewed quickly with small, sharp movements. He swallowed just as fast, opening his eyes once the fish had passed through his throat.

"And?" Blossomkit whispered from her seat in the nest. She had woken recently, just in time to see he brother try the strange new food. "How is it?" Hazelkit smacked his lips experimentally, running his small pink tongue over the edge of his mouth and plucking a scale out from between his teeth deftly with a single paw. His head cocked to one side, the small deep brown tabby gazed into the distance thoughtfully. Whitefang waited with bated breath; every moment was a test.

"It-" Hazelkit began, pausing, "It's not that bad." Blossomkit smiled, and Wolfkit scowled. "It's very strong at first, and it tastes nothing like the prey in Shadowclan…it's sort of salty, but very soft…I suppose it's pretty good." Hazelkit used, turning around to take another bite. Around a mouthful of fish, he said: "I mean, the scalesf are short of toughf but," He spit out a shiny silver speck with a loud 'ptoo' "Otherwise, I likef its."

"I won't touch the stuff, not if you made me a warrior right now, even!" Wolfkit proclaimed.

"Well, then I'll just have to call Shimmerstar in and have her perform a ceremony." Falconshade purred. Wolfkit glared at him. The ginger tabby's blue eyes softened.

"I was only teasing," He murmured. "Just give it a taste, I'm sure it's not as bad as you think it is."

"I'll try it," Blossomkit announced after Wolfkit shook his head violently, turning away.

"Do it, I dare you!" He growled at his sister. Blossomkit huffed, standing up a little straighter.

"Fine!" She said haughtily, "I will!" Marching over to where Hazelkit sat, gorging on his breakfast and spitting out the scales, Blossomkit stared at the fish. Falconshade wandered over and sat beside her.

"Would you like me to skin it for you? I could give you the meat without the scales." He offered. Blossomkit nodded, kneading her paws nervously as she watched her father's long claws easily separate the shimmering skin and scales from the pinkish red, glistening meat. Falconshade carved off a slice, and set it gently before his daughter.

"There you go, darling." He purred, "Give it a try." Blossomkit leaned over and cautiously touched her tongue to the meaty sliver, jerking it away almost immediately.

"It's slimy!" She cried. Wolfkit laughed, and Hazelkit rolled his eyes.

"Wellf, duh!" He mewed through another mouthful. Blossomkit stared at the fish meat as if it were her mortal enemy, and she was locked in combat.

"Falconshade, it looks weird." She whimpered, "It's too shiny, and it looks like it's still alive!" Falconshade nuzzled her ear gently, from which she pulled away. He sighed.

"Try eating it with your eyes closed, Blossomkit. Maybe that will be easier. Trust me, it will get less intimidating over time. This is your first fish, after all." He said. The ginger she-kit leaned over again; eyes squeezed shut like her brother had done before her. She poked it with her tongue, recoiling slightly, before tensing her muslcles and taking a bite. She sat up, chewing slowly, eyes still shut tight, nose wrinkled, tail wrapped snugly about her paws. As she swallowed, her father cheered.

"Good job! Wonderful!" Falconshade grinned, "And how was it? Was it as bad as you thought?" He asked once she'd opened her eyes. Staring up at the ginger tabby with large green orbs, Blossomkit smiled a little.

"It wasn't that bad," She admitted shyly, "It was just like Hazelkit said. But I still like finches more."

"Wolfkit, it's your turn." Falconshade called, turning back to look at his recluse of a son. Whitefang so badly wanted to reach out and nudge him forward, but she knew that if he was to trust Falconshade he must learn to do soon his own.

"No!" Wolfkit snapped.

"Wussy!" Hazelkit jeered.

"Come on, Wolfkit! Try it!" Blossomkit urged.

"Never! I'm not Riverclan scum!" The little white tom said angrily.

"Please, just give it a chance." Falconshade pleaded.

"No!" Wolfkit growled. Falconshade opened his mouth to say something, but his eyes hardened and he closed it immediately. Whitefang watched him. _What are you going to do? _She wanted to ask. _You can't let your son walk all over you like this, my love. Show him you are more than what he thinks. You are strong, too._

"Well, then I must assume you aren't hungry." Falconshade said evenly. Hazelkit looked up at his father, confused.

"But he probably is!" Hazelkit mewed.

"I guess if he doesn't want to eat, he isn't hungry." Falconshade shrugged. Whitefang saw Wolfkit sulk in their nest out of the corner of her eye. Blossomkit caught on quickly.

"Should we leave it for him in case he gets hungry later?" She asked innocently. Falconshade looked down at her and smiled.

"I think that's a wonderful idea! Should I skin some for him and save it for later?" The warrior asked. Blossomkit nodded. Falconshade cut Wolfkit another thick slice of meaty carp and laid it out gently on the stone.

"Is that enough for him, do you think?" Falconshade asked his kits. They agreed.

"But what about the rest of the fish?' Hazelkit mewed, "We can't waste it, can we?"

"Of course not." Falconshade purred, "Once you two have your fill, we can deliver it to the elders."

"Alright," Blossomkit said. The pair began eating again, and Falconshade watched them proudly, occasionally glancing at Wolfkit, who had his back to the triage of fish eaters. Whitefang shook her head. Her son would have to learn that he cannot behave like this, especially not toward his family. Falconshade and the kits had soon stopped eating, and Blossomkit was looking happily at her rounded paunch, and Hazelkit, too, was admiring his full belly.

"I'm stuffed!" He purred, rolling down the steep, mossy slope of the nest.

"Me, too!" Blossomkit yawned.

"Are you too full to bring the rest of this fish to the elder's den?" Falconshade asked pleasantly. The kittens shook their heads.

"I'll bring it!" Hazelkit announced, bouncing over to the half-eaten fish.

"No, I will." Blossomkit argued.

"I will, because I'm stronger." Hazelkit explained. Falconshade laughed.

"Why don't you both carry it?" He asked, providing a suitable solution.

"Fine," Hazelkit sighed.

"Wolfkit, are you coming?" Falconshade asked hopefully.

"No way!" The white tom spat, "Nobody here likes us, so why should we do anything for them?"

"That's not true." Falconshade said gently, "I like you."

"So? What difference does that make?" Wolfkit huffed. Falconshade hung his head, and Blossomkit glared at her brother. Bounding up to him, green eyes blazing, she hissed:

"This is not what you promised!"

Wolfkit did not reply to her, he merely looked away and sulked. Whitefang sighed and shook her head, watching as her other two kits made their way out of the nursery with the remainder of the carp. Falconshade followed proudly, glancing over his shoulder at Wolfkit before exiting.

"Once you've eaten, feel free to join us!" He called over his shoulder. Wolfkit ignored him. Once they'd left, Wolfkit was left alone in the nursery. All the other queens and kits had long since gone, and the den was dark and silent. All Whitefang heard were her son's sharp, shallow breaths and the quiet 'plink plink' of his tears hitting the stone, where his breakfast lay untouched.

"Mama I miss you…" He whispered, "I miss you and I want to go home. The others…it's like they never cared. About you, about Timbermask, about Shadowclan, or anybody! I miss Timbermask too. How could Stonetail let him take us? Why did he hold Timbermask down? Did he know? Who else knew? I hate Stormfall for standing up for _him_. I hate _him_. I hate all of stupid Riverclan! I hate you, too, for not doing anything! Where are you?!" Whitefang wanted to reach out, wanted to comfort him, wanted to wrap herself around her little son and never let go. As he cried, she stood. As he whimpered her name, she walked away. As he cursed his father, she left to find him.

Outside in the dazzling sunlight, among the gurgling and babbling nearby brooks and creeks, Riverclan was a bustling hub of activity. Streamrunner stood tall in the center of camp, directing traffic and organizing patrols and training sessions. Whitefang saw her nieces and nephews beside their mentors, bouncing on their paws, eager to leave. She overheard one mentor, a brindle-pelted tom with shining blue eyes, enthusiastically explaining some sort of island ambush technique. She scanned the clearing for her mate and the kits, and found them making their way through all the energy as they ventured toward the elder's den.

"Stonebelly! Smallwhisker! Rustclaw, are you in?" Falconshade called pleasantly, peering into the darkened den.

"Where else would we be?" A wheezy voice asked, followed by a hiccupping chuckle. Hazelkit and Blossomkit stood close together, pelts touching, as they took in the strange new faces staring back at them.

"So these are the little tykes that the Clan has been fussing about," The only she-cat mused, her cloudy blue eyes straining to catch a clear glimpse of the kittens. Blossomkit backed away nervously.

"Now now, dear, don't be frightened! We don't bite." The she-cat purred gently.

"I don't have many teeth to bite with anymore, anyway!" The ruddy, brownish red tom snorted.

"Eh?" The plump gray tom grunted, cocking his head toward the other. "What was that?"

"I don't have all my teeth anymore!" The first tom repeated, speaking louder.

"You can't swim to the reef anymore? Well, neither can I." The gray tom mumbled.

"No, I said I don't have all my teeth anymore!" The ruddy tom shouted.

"Skeef? What's a skeef?" The gray tom wondered.

"Oh, forget it, you deaf old codger." The first tom groaned irritably. Hazelkit giggled, attracting both toms' attention.

"And who are you?" The pudgier tom asked, peering down at Hazelkit "Are you one of Waverunner's? You look an awful lot like Briarheart."

"Waverunner's kits were apprenticed moons ago!" The she-cat told the tom loudly, "This one here is Falconshade's. A spitting image of his grandmother, isn't he?"

"Falconshade's?" The tom repeated, skeptical. "He has kits? Who's his mate? Slightfur? Her eyes are gold, aren't they?" The she-cat shook her head.

"Have you not been paying attention at all?" She scolded, "Stonebelly, these are Falconshade's kits with that Shadowclan she-cat. Whitefang, was it?" Falconshade's eyes went misty, and Whitefang felt the need to comfort him, knowing she could not. She promised herself she wouldn't.

"Whitefang," He sighed. Blossomkit glanced up at him, having put the fish down and watched him intently. The ginger tom seemed lost for a moment, before regaining his thoughts. "Yes, she's my mate. She was my mate. Still is my mate. Will always be. This is Hazelkit, and Blossomkit. Wolfkit is…he's a little tired right now. He'll hopefully be out and about a little later." Hazelkit and Blossomkit squeaked out a few small hellos before hiding behind each other.

"Do you hate us?" Blossomkit asked quietly.

"Hate you?!" The ruddy tom nearly shouted, eyes wide with disbelief. "Why, little one, we've been around a long time. We've witnessed injustice and we've witnessed code breaking like you wouldn't believe. But this…"He trailed off, smiling at her, "Love is one of the most powerful things in all the world, darlin'. The code couldn't stop it even if Starclan fought for the law like a thousand Tigerclans. And the things that come from the purest love are the most precious." The elder looked down at her and smiled, hazel eyes sparkling.

"We could never hate you, dear." The she-cat, Smallwhisker, agreed.

"What?" Stonebelly grunted. Blossomkit grinned a little.

"We brought you some fish." Hazelkit mewed, "It's carp. I tried it, it's pretty good."

"I love carp!" Stonebelly exclaimed. Smallwhisker sighed.

"You love anything you can get your mouth around!" She proclaimed. The other tom, Rustclaw, laughed.

"What'd you say?" Stonebelly asked.

"We'll see you later!" Falconshade purred, guiding his kits out of the den.

"Good bye!" Smallwhisker called.

"Visit again sometime!" Rustclaw added.

"Good fish!" Stonebelly said with his mouth full. The kits trotted after Falconshade, looking around. Whitefang watched them carefully, as well as their new clanmates. Most welcomed them with warm smiles, but a few cold glares shot daggers of ice at their pelts. Blossomkit shivered, and pressed closer to her brother. They still stayed a fair distance from Falconshade, following his footsteps carefully. The ginger tom was called over by a silver she-cat, and beckoned the kits to follow him. As the trio approached her, Whitefang recognized her face. It was Streamdash, the deputy. She had been kind at gatherings, albeit slightly aloof, but Whitefang was unprepared for the sour look the she-cat shot her kits. Blossomkit cowered behind her brother.

"Yes?" Falconshade asked, his teeth gritted and his voice hard. He smiled, but it was fake and forced.

"We need you on a hunting patrol. You'll report to Troutfur." The deputy said sharply before glancing down at the kits. "And may I ask when you'll be returning these?" His blue eyes hardened.

"They are my children, Streamdash, and shall be raised in Riverclan with their family." He replied coolly. She snorted.

"If it were up to me, they wouldn't be staying long." She sneered, "This Clan is no place for halfbreeds."

"And I suppose you're pure blooded down to the tip of your nose? Fat chance." Falconshade retorted. Streamdash glowered at him, blue eyes burning.

"One more snide remark and I may just report you to Shimmerstar," She snapped, "So I suggest you hold your tongue! Now go!" Falconshade glared at her before turning to his kits.

"Don't mind her. She doesn't know what she's saying." He murmured, licking each f their cheeks. "You two know where the nursery is, right? Just head back there and play a little. I'll be back soon." He rose, gave a curt nod to the deputy, and strode away. Blossomkit and Hazelkit made to turn around and head back to the nursery where Wolfkit awaited them, but a large silver figure blocked their path.

"And where do you think you're going? Streamdash drawled. The kits didn't dare to speak. "I thought so." The deputy said smugly. "Follow me." Hazelkit shook his head.

"No." He mewed. Streamdash turned toward him, blue eyes blazing.

"What did you say?" She murmured.

"No." Hazelkit said, his voice a little stronger now.

"I don't think that was an option." Streamrunner growled. "I'm taking you back where you belong!"

"To Shadowclan?" Blossomkit asked quietly. Streamdash bark-laughed, a harsh sound that grated on the ears of the kits.

"Shadowclan? No Clan deserves scum like you, born from a broken code to a broken she-cat and a lost tom. Your father's got his head in the clouds, thinking you can stay here. Thinking you'll be accepted. You'll always be different. Y'ou'll never belong here. I'm taking you where you were meant to be: the streets!" Streamdash snapped.

"I don't think you are!" A strong voice sounded from behind the kits. They turned, and found themselves facing a kit only a little larger than themselves, amber eyes aflame, her blue-gray pelt punctuated by a white splash on her chest.

"Larchkit, what do you think you're doing?" Streamdash meowed exasperatedly, more of a statement than a question.

"I'm going to tell my mother what you said!" The she-kit hissed, "That was mean!"

"Larchkit, I'm the deputy." Streamdash purred sweetly, "Would she really take your word over mine, sweetie? Go on and play. This is big cat business." The condescending tone irritated the young she-cat to no end.

"Mama accepts them, so why can't you? C'mon, guys. Let's go." Larchkit said, beckoning the kits over to her with a flick of her tail.

"They're coming with _me_." Streamdash growled.

"No they are _not_!" Larchkit shouted, causing the ears of a passing queen to perk up.

"What's going on over here?" The pretty pale brown she-cat asked, white paws tap tap tapping on the sandy ground as she made her way over.

"Nothing, Softberry." Larchkit purred innocently. "Nothing at all. The kits are just lost. They don't remember where the nursery is!" Softberry nodded, and looked down at Blossomkit and Hazelkit fondly, tail brushing her own rounded belly almost unknowingly.

"I'll certainly be happy to show them the way." The queen mewed, herding the pair along with a slight flick of her slender tail. "Come along little ones." Larchkit shot a smug look at the deputy before trotting to Softberry's side. Streamdash dipped her head to the queen before walking away, sulking. Whitefang watched the silver she-cat leave with darkness in her heart. _If this is what one of the higher powers in Riverclan thinks of my kits, what will happen when Shimmerstar isn't around? Will they be safe? _She glanced toward where the quiet queen and kind kit were leading her babies away, and felt a tiny spark of hope. _Maybe, just maybe, they'll be alright._

* * *

><p>Falconshade returned home late in the evening, and Whitefang met him at the stepping-stones. By his side, she followed him into the nursery, where Hazelkit and Blossomkit were napping peacefully side by side, exhausted from their busy day and afternoon of play with the other kits of the nursery. Only Wolfkit lay awake, his large blue eyes staring up at the ceiling as if plotting his escape. As soon as the ginger tabby entered, his son looked up. Eyes hardening, blue met blue once again in a clash of wills. Falconshade held Wolfkit's identical gaze evenly, patiently. After a few moments passed, the young tom's shoulders drooped and he muttered with a tone of defeat:<p>

"I'm hungry now."

**Yay! Another chapter done. I think the next one will be a time skip, maybe to the end of the moon? Either that or a peek into Starclan or Shadowclan to see how things are faring there. **

**QOTD: Kits: their characterization and your thoughts there? And maybe any opinions on the Riverclanners we've met this chapter?**

**I'm stunned by how many f you have reviewed saying how much you loathe Falconshade. As the author, I'm biased because I know my characters and their motives and how this whole shindig will end (maybe five or so more chapters?) and I happen to agree full heartedly with the review from adreamyreality. BUT ALL OF YOU MAKE SUCH GOOD POINTS GAH YOU'RE STIRRING MY MIND**

**Later gators!**

**~Bright**


	76. You Don't Understand

**Be prepared for this freakin long ass chapter that will hit you straight in the feels. I warned you. Don't say I didn't.**

Whitefang decided to leave the kits to their own devices for a while. She knew in her heart that Falconshade would coax them slowly but surely into a regular life in Riverclan, and she knew she could not be the one to disrupt that flow. She figured it was about time to visit Thunderclan. She had promised Sunshine she would talk some sense into Appleclaw, and she owed it to Stonepaw. _The poor little tom,_ she thought, _rejected by his own father. I know how it feels, kit, and I don't want anyone else to go through what I have. I wouldn't wish it upon my worst enemy._

She left Riverclan, her paws floating over the land as easily as if she were running through the stars. Crossing the border into Thunderclan territory, the familiar forest scents enveloped her, washing over her senses like a long gone friend. However, slight discrepancies between Thunderclan and Shadowclan remained: the squirrelly musk, the absence of marsh, and the lack of soft pine needles, which were replaced by soggy oak leaves that carpeted the forest floor. There were no familiar scents of cats, either. She could not detect Fogfrost or his kits, nor Robinfoot or Appleclaw. And it was Appleclaw she sought. Moving through the trees silent and sly as a prowling fox, she followed worn dirt paths that crisscrossed and circled. To the trained eyes, these paths were not a maze. There were those with fresh paw prints, those with stale scents, and those that seemed well trampled and worn by the ravages of time. The fresh ones were the only ones she traced. Bright golden eyes scoped out any signs of life among the leaves, ignoring the twitters of birds and the rustles of similarly raucous, reckless prey. She was on the hunt for one cat and one cat alone.

At last she came across a tangle of wild smells, and her nose detected two that tweaked her memories: a cream colored tom and a proud silver warrior. From the anguish that infused their trail, and the anger that laced their scents, she sensed a raging dispute. Worry in her heart, her steps quickened and she hurried down the path. It was an old one, abandoned, and left to withstand the elements and hold its own against the forces of the wild. Overgrown, the jungle trail seemed fraught with dangers that lurked in the unknown: sharp stones, red berries dripping from vines, a slithering adder among the shadows. Whitefang was glad she was no longer mortal, and followed the tracks amid the trampled greenery and tattered leaves. Finally, voices sounded up ahead. Furious and untamed, their roared through the forest like battling lions, echoing off of towering boulders that circled a forgotten clearing. Whitefang peeked through the underbrush, forgetting, momentarily, that she was invisible.

"You're insufferable!" Fogfrost was growling, "You're a lying piece of fox dung, I wish you'd never been kitted!"

"What, is it your business now? Is it your business, what goes on with me?" Appleclaw snarled, hackles raised.

"It's the whole Clan's business because you _live in it_!" Fogfrost retorted, claws unsheathed.

"No one needs to know what goes on with me and Fernheart." Appleclaw hissed, blue eyes blazing.

"You're a bitter coward, and it's pathetic! Why can't you just deal with your mistakes like a real warrior?" The silver tom yowled angrily.

"I am a warrior!" Appleclaw growled.

"Prove it." Fogfrost spat viciously. Appleclaw lunged at him, but Whitefang lept in his way, willing herself to be felt and seen. The cream colored tom crashed against her solid flank and tumbled to the ground, caught unawares. Fogfrost stared up her, eyes wide.

"Whitefang?" He gasped. "How did you-"

"I'm only here for a little while." She cut him off, her strength already fading. She had to make herself heard, too. Turning to Appleclaw, she bared her teeth. "You!"

The tom was silent, collapsed upon the ground like a ragdoll.

"You _are_ a bitter coward, not a warrior, and you deserve to suffer for what you've put upon your poor mate and kit! I will not allow you to cut Stonepaw out of your life like some piece of prey you do not care for. He is your flesh and blood, your son, and you will treat him as such." The white warrior said firmly, teeth bared in a menacing snarl.

"How are you here?" Appleclaw asked quietly.

"I joined our ancestors," Whitefang replied solemnly, remembering the news of her death had not yet been spread, "And have spoken to Sunshine. She told me of the horrors you've put Stonepaw through, due to negligence and knowing neglect. I will not stand for it!"

"You're dead?' Fogfrost whispered.

"Yes." Whitefang sighed. "And my kits have joined their father in Riverclan."

"Riverclan?!" Appleclaw shouted, leaping to his paws in fury. "Riverclan?! You will take up with a mangy river rat and not with me?!"

"Never with you." Whitefang said coldly. "I thought we could be friends, Appleclaw. I thought I could trust you. But your jealousy and spite have ruined your spirit. You take a mate you don't love, try to kill me, and then turn away your family and friends. I don't know where you went wrong, but you're no longer the tom I once knew and respected."

"You wench." Appleclaw spat.

"Don't speak to her like that, you miserable son of a-" Fogfrost howled.

"Enough!" Whitefang growled. "I will say this once. Appleclaw, you need to right your wrongs. You know what my mother did to me, and now you're doing the same to your own kit. I will not stand for it. Become his father, or suffer the consequences of his wrath once he's old enough and skilled enough to make you feel his pain. Hal the bond with your friends, you need each other. Don't let anger cloud your mind. Please, for the sake of everything we hold dear, do it."

"He looks just like his mother!" Appleclaw hissed, "He talks like her, he acts like her, he is her kit, not mine."

"You see what you want to see." Whitefang said, her voice softening. "What I see is a young tom desperately trying to please his distant father. He has your determination, your strength and kindness. He may be his mother's son in looks, but he's just like you. Give him a chance to prove himself to you and you'll see."

"Whitefang I can't believe you're dead." Fogfrost said, his voice pained. "After everything…Robinfoot won't believe it."

"I don't really believe it myself, still." Whitefang admitted.

"And—and your its?" Appleclaw asked, choking slightly on the words.

"They're with their father and…they're adjusting." She murmured. "Falconshade is doing the best he can."

"What are their names?" Fogfrost asked, "I'll look out for them at gatherings in the future."

"Blossomkit, Wolfkit, and Hazelkit…" She said, her voice fading as her strength ebbed. She turned back to Appleclaw. "Do you promise to try?" Her body flickered in and out of view, her shimmering pelt no longer so solid.

"I do." He breathed. "I'll try for you."

"Don't try for me. Try for you." She said softly before disappearing for good. Exhausted from the mental exertion, she fell to the ground in a heap of fur. Her eyesight went blurry, and she listened, not really hearing, the two toms speak. Eventually they left the clearing together, and her eyes began to close.

* * *

><p>"Whitefang!" A voice called. "Whitefang!"<p>

"Swanmist?" She asked weakly. Then, the world went dark.

"Mmmph." Whitefang grunted as she opened her eyes, her body sore and tired.

"I brought you some squirrel," A pleasant voice mewed. Blinking, Whitefang glanced up at the figure before her. It was a dark brown tabby she-cat with glowing green eyes that sparkled in the starlight. Whitefang heaved herself to her paws and immediately her head began to pound.

"Briarheart-oh, ow!" She muttered, pressing a paw to her temple. The she-cat gave her a sympathetic look.

"I remember the first time I tried to sustain my presence. It hurt like a badger's claws!" She mewed gently. "Here, eat something dear." Whitefang crouched down, ignoring her throbbing head, and took a few short bites. Surprisingly, she was hungry. She didn't know Starclan cats got hungry. After she finished the prey, she looked up at the she-cat, licking her lips and eyeing the former queen warily.

"Are you-" She began, only to be cut off.

"Mad? No, sweet one. I'm not mad at you. I know you did the best you could with what you had." Briarheart replied softly, "And I understand. No, I won't ask any questions. There's no need to explain yourself to me. I am concerned, however, with the kits' acceptance of their father. Will a moon be long enough?"

"I'm not sure," Whitefang admitted, "Wolfkit is stubborn. The other two, as far as I can tell, are not too worried about their future in Riverclan. But him…he was the closest to me, and to Timbermask. I'm not sure if Wolfkit will ever truly accept Falconshade as his father, or Riverclan as his home."

"I see." Briarheart mewed, "The other day you called me Swanmist. Were you expecting your sister?"

"Yes," Whitefang answered cautiously. "Is-is she alright?" Briarheart shrugged.

"As far as I know. I do not usually have contact with Shadowclanners. My son's mate, however, is always an exception." She smiled knowingly and placed her tail over Whitefang's shoulders.

"Thank you, for helping me." The white warrior sighed. "Sometimes I feel so lost in this new world of stars and skies."

"I know, dear, I know, and it takes a lot of getting used to. Why don't you go visit your Clan? How long has it been since you've gone to them?" Briarheart asked.

"How long have I been asleep?' Whitefang questioned.

"Two days." Briarheart answered, "You were very tired."

"A week then. It's been a week since I've seen them." She sighed, thinking of her parents and clanmates. "I should go."

"I'd hurry, it's almost sunset for them." Briarheart urged. "Good luck, little one." Whitefang closed her eyes and envisioned herself in the camp, outside of the warrior's den. With a pop, she was gone.

* * *

><p>Opening her wide golden eyes, Whitefang surveyed her surroundings. So achingly familiar was Shadowclan camp that her heart felt as if it were tearing in two and her mind was numb with pain. Around her were the remnants of everyday life: the apprentices, fresh from training, lolled about the freshkill pile. Emberpaw groomed his gleaming, sunset hued fur that shone brilliantly as the fading sunlight caught it. Honeypaw admired him from afar while her brothers shared a sparrow nearby. Badgerkit pranced merrily outside the nursery, her ears pricked for ay sign of her father returning from patrol. Cherrynose's nearly identical kits scampered about their mother as she spoke with Bouncestrike happily, watching them play. She scanned the camp for her parents, but had no sightings. Whitefang walked toward the medicine cats den, wondering whether her mother was still residing there. She was not, but Shiverspots looked pleased with her supply of herbs this season. Suddenly, she heard Hollowstar call her father's name.<p>

"Stonetail!" The dark tortie said. She hustled into the clearing to see her father. The graying tom with a white splash on his chest had joined his leader, looking older and frailer than ever. His golden eyes were dull.

"How is the life of an elder treating you?" Hollowstar asked, and Whitefang gasped. He'd retired! _My father an elder? How can this be!_ She thought wildly.

"I miss my duties," Stonetail admitted, "But Paledove needs me."

"And how is she?" Hollowstar inquired.

"Still ill, and the dreams have gotten worse. She keeps thinking she sees Whitefang, but there's never anything there. She misses the kits, Hollowstar." Stonetail said imploringly.

"As does everyone," the leader dipped his head, "But you said it yourself: they deserve to be with their true father."

"I feel myself going back on my word." Stonetail mumbled. "They were our last piece of her left."

"I take it Timbermask still hasn't visited?" Hollowstar sighed, sitting down. Stonetail joined him, joints creaking painfully.

"He is still furious with me for stopping him." Her father agreed quietly. "He will take a while to come around, and Blueshine still refuses to speak to him. She feels that he has betrayed her with his lies, and until he admits he was wrong to do so, she will not speak or look at him. Addershriek cannot convince her otherwise, and Timbermask stands by his defense of my daughter. He loved her, you know." Hollowstar nodded.

"I know, but did she?" He sighed. Whitefang tore herself away from them and crept toward the elder's den. There lay her mother, still and quiet, her crystal blue eyes a dim shade of gray. Her silver pelt had dulled to some dusty hue, and no one accompanied her in the den. She could only assume that Frecklestep and Jumpfire had passed on, until a rusty cough sounded from behind her. A black tom with an orange blaze upon his forehead stood at the entrance, his dull copper eyes unusually bright.

"Whitefang?" He whispered. She wondered how he could see her. Paledove's ears flicked.

"Did you say her name?" She rasped.

"I-I said nothing, Paledove." Jumpfire stammered as Whitefang shook her head. She led the ancient tom out of the den and into the corner of camp, towards the dirtplace tunnel. Jumpfire shook his head now.

"No need for privacy, Whitefang. At my age, cats expect you to be crazy. I'm not above 'talking to myself'." He chuckled, taking a seat in the growing shadows.

"How can you see me?" She asked.

"I must be close to the void myself." He shrugged, "I know Frecklestep began talking to his mate and son before he went."

"He's gone?" Whitefang asked miserably.

"Yes, a mere three days ago. His death hit no one but Addershriek particularly hard, for his health had been failing for a long time. I'm sure he'd like to see you in the skies, dear." Jumpfire mewed, his voice cracking at the thought of his old friend.

"I'll look out for him when I return." She replied. "How are you?"

"Not faring too well, I must say. I've got a touch of a fever, joints full of aches, and a persistent cough-" He began hacking, and Whitefang waited patiently for the fit to subside. "But I dare say your mother is worse off."

"I'll speak to her later." Whitefang decided. " Any news?"

"Only that of Frecklestep's death and Doestep's kitting." The elder said, "Two healthy toms, Toadkit and Cranekit. One like his father, the other like his mother and grandmother. Those are some strong genes!" The old tom laughed. "And of course Rosefoot has moved to the nursery as well. This Clan is so full of new life, they won't miss me when I'm gone."

"They will," Whitefang assured him. He frowned.

"Sometimes, my dear, it's better not to be missed and to cause no pain than to be missed and inflict broken hearts on others." He said wisely. "I assume you'll speak to Timbermask tonight as well as your mother?"

"I think I should…" Whitefang said, her voice wavering slightly, "And your opinion?"

"It's a good choice." Jumpfire purred. "Now go, before the last flickers of sunlight fade and the stars summon you."

"It was good to see you." Whitefang smiled.

"And you." Jumpfire replied. Whitefang rose, and made her way back to the elder's den. As she crept inside, she saw something in her mother's gaze stir.

"Hello, Mama." Whitefang whispered, willing herself to seem real in her mother's eyes. Paledove immediately lifted her head, staring at Whitefang with joy unbound.

"My baby!" The elder rasped, reaching forward to touch her. Whitefang felt her mother's gentle silver paw stroke her foreleg and it sent shivers up her spine.

"Mother," Whitefang purred as the she-cat dashed forward and embraced her lovingly, licking her cheek. Paledove drew back, startled.

"You taste cold. Like starlight." Paledove whimpered. "You don't taste like my daughter…but you smell the same. A little different…but the same."

"It's me, I promise you, it's me." Whitefang assured her, tearing up. "I didn't know you went to the elder's den."

"Your father retired." Paledove murmured, pressing close despite the chill Whitefang's pelt gave off, like cooled stone. "And so we moved. He said it was for my health…but I knew you couldn't be gone. Not forever…not forever."

"I'm in Starclan, Mama." Whitefang mewed, "I stay there now."

"No, you're not dead." Paledove whispered certainly. "You're right here with me."

"I'm only visiting, Mama." Whitefang said warily.

"No, you have to stay." Paledove insisted. Whitefang looked at her: so pale, weak, and frightened. Her mother was not the same. _Had Swanmist ever visited?_ She wondered. _Does mother recognize Starclan cats?_

"Mama, has Swanmist visited you?" Whitefang asked gently. Paledove looked confused, her eyes misty.

"Swanmist is dead. But you, you're right here." Paledove replied. "Swanmist is dead, gone, never came to see me, no no no. But you're here now. You're not dead, my love."

"Yes I am." Whitefang sighed, "I am dead. I'm only here for a little while. Paledove shook her head defiantly.

"No! You're here with me, you're alive!" Then the elder queen gasped. "The kits! Where are the kits, have you brought them home? Where are they?" The she-cat began tugging at Whitefang's fur, hysterical and crying. "He took them away! All of them, he took them away from us! You have to bring them home!"

"Paledove?" Stonetail called from outside the den. "Paledove, darling, are you alright?" He sounded tired, but concerned nonetheless.

"She's here, Stonetail! She's here, she'd alive!" Paledove cried, "But where are the kits? The kits!" The she-cat wailed wildly, shaking Whitefang like a ragdoll. Stonetail burst into the den.

"Paledove, what are you-" But he stopped when he saw them. His eyes widened, happy, wary, full of wonder.

"Whitefang?' He asked, taking a step closer.

"I'm only here for a little while," she warned him, but before she could finish, he had come up to her and curled around her, as he had done when she was just a tiny kit in the nursery.

"But you're here for now, and that's all that matters." He said, voice muffled as he spoke and cried into her shoulder where he pressed his muzzle in grief.

"The kits!" Paledove howled. Stonetail broke away from his daughter to comfort his mate.

"The kits are with their father. Whitefang is here, but only for a little while. She is dead. She has been dead for weeks. She is here form Starclan." He mewed in soft, soothing tones. Whitefang nodded, looking at her mother's stricken face from over her father's shoulder. As soon as the she-cat had calmed down and gone back to clinging to Whitefang quietly, only occasionally murmuring "My little daughter…home home home…" Stonetail faced Whitefang and looked at her determinedly.

"I told myself I would not cry when I saw you again." He said sadly, "And I broke my word. Tell me, dearheart, how are you?"

"I'm…I'm doing okay." Whitefang admitted reluctantly. "I've seen so many that I didn't think I would see for a long, long time. I miss all of you dreadfully." Stonetail nodded.

"I understand." He said gently. "And what of your sister?"

"She's still upset. A little distant. But she's doing alright I think." Whitefang said cautiously. She couldn't be certain of her words: she had not seen Swanmist in many many days. "And I've been with the kits and with Falconshade. Hazelkit and Blossomkit I'm sure will do fine in Riverclan, but Wolfkit is struggling. They've made a pact to give their father a moon to prove himself. After that…I don't know." She hated not knowing. Her father could see it in her face.

"They should stay." He said after a moment. "He is their father. Do they have any other family?" He asked.

"An aunt, an uncle, and five cousins, all of whom have been unbelievably supportive and welcoming. Over all, Riverclan has treated them well. The elders are kind, but the deputy and a few of the more senior warriors are not quite so pleasant."

"And Shimmerstar?"

"She supports them, in her own way. I don't know what made her do it, but I think she sees something in the four of them that not many others do. I trust her judgment."

"And the other queens? Are they sharing their nests?"

"Falconshade is bedding down with the kits for the time being, although the others and their kits were lovely and welcoming. And I saw their grandmother and mine in Starclan." She said, thinking back to her recent encounter with Briarheart and her previous conversations with Paledove's mother.

"Good, good." Stonetail sighed.

"I'm getting tired. I should leave soon before I use all of my energy." Whitefang said sadly. Stonetail's eyes darkened.

"Before you go, darling, just know that I love you. We love you. Okay? And send our love to the kits…and Falconshade…as well." He seemed reluctant to add Falconshade in with his blessings, but Whitefang was grateful he did.

"I will. I love all of you, too." She smiled.

"Will you visit Timbermask?" Stonetail inquired. "You should, dear, he's still very upset."

"I know." Whitefang mewed. "But I don't know what I would say."

"Say something." Stonetail pleaded. "Now go, love. Be safe."

"Good bye, Papa." She murmured, licking his cheek tenderly. Then, she looked at her mother, who met her gaze.

"I love you too, Mama. Stay strong. I'll be back soon." She whispered. Paledove's eyes widened fearfully.

"Stay with me!" She begged desperately.

"I have to go…" Whitefang mewed regretfully, letting go of her lifelike appearance and becoming invisible once more, so Paledove clutched at empty air.

"No! She screamed, "No! Whitefang!"

No one came rushing into the elder's den, so she assumed outbursts like this were common place. Her father seemed empty and dejected as he calmed his mate once more. She walked up to him and whispered in his ear powerfully:

"I'll be home soon." He smiled a little, and a single silver tear leaked from his bright golden eye. She turned and padded out of the elder's den. Whitefang scanned camp, the darkness closing in. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a brown tabby figure disappear into the warrior's den. She dashed after it, bursting through the den entrance only to find Blueshine and Addershriek. They were arguing, and she did not have enough willpower not to eavesdrop.

"You have to speak with him!" Addershriek rumbled, glaring at his mate.

"Never! He _lied_ to us, Addershriek! She _used_ him and he let her! The vile serpent corrupted our son!" Blueshine hissed furiously. Whitefang scowled at her, feeling anger bubble in her heart towards the silver-blue she-cat strong as the anger from kithood.

"He loved her!" Addershriek growled, "Have you no respect for him?! He's grieving, and one of the cats he holds most dear avoids him like Greencough! Blueshine, if you don't speak with him, he'll throw himse4lf in the river as well!"

"So be it!" She snarled. Whitefang was taken aback by the ferocity of the former queen's tone. Addershriek's usual warm hazel eyes narrowed to icy slits.

"You are one of the coldest cats I've ever known." He spat. "You have no heart!"

"I have heart enough to love you and Rainwing and Bouncestrike. Isn't that enough for you?" She asked angrily.

"No." Addershriek hissed. "If you can't love him then you're as bad as Paledove once was."

"She was _right_ to disown that crazed monster of a daughter!" Blueshine snarled, "And she made up with her, and look where she is now! The she-cat is dead, her family is torn apart, and Paledove was driven mad! Her mate gave up the deputy slot, and their life is in shambles! You're the terrible cat, for thinking we should forgive Timbermask for acting so much like _her_! She ruined him!"

"She did NOT!" Addershriek roared furiously, "Do not speak of my apprentice that way, nor my son!"

"What? Are you turning against me? We've been mates ever since we were made warriors, Addershriek, are you giving up on all that we are? All that we stand for?" Blueshine asked, eyes mint green shards of piercing ice.

"No. No, Blueshine, I'm giving up on you. I'm giving up on all that _you_ stand for. I cannot be with a she-cat who does not share my values and beliefs, nor one who cannot love our son and the one he gave his heart to. We're over, and I never want to speak with you again!" Addershriek thundered, turning tail and storming out of the warrior's den. Blueshine watched him leave, cussing him as he exited the den. As soon as he'd disappeared, though, she began to choke on her vile words and threats. Quickly, she disintegrated into hacking sobs that shook her entire body and she soaked the moss around her paws in tears. Whitefang couldn't watch her cry: she'd seen enough tears for a lifetime. It was shock enough to her that Blueshine's tears weren't acid, burning through the ground and into ancient graves deep beneath the dirt. She left the living she-cat, leaving the den and again searching for that familiar brown tabby pelt. She felt sorry that Blueshine and Addershriek's relationship, which had seemed flawless to the outside eye, was decimated. But now she had to find Timbermask.

_Timbermask…_Their relationship had been confusing. First, a deep loathing that morphed into an apprentice crush that soon became hot hatred. This hatred became disgust, resentfulness, and begrudging acceptance. This acceptance twisted and turned in the winds of change, and became pity, which slowly turned to friendship. Somewhere, somehow, in between all the stages was some sort of underlying affection, or maybe admiration. It so confused her, this tangle of feelings, that she had always attributed that feeling in her gut to mistrust. Now, though, Whitefang thought that if things had been different…if she hadn't fallen so deeply in love with Falconshade…if Swanmist hadn't left her with such a bloody mission…if he hadn't been so crass…maybe she could've loved him. Maybe they could've had something. But that opportunity was long gone and her heart belonged to another. But there was always that tiny piece of her brain, the little voice that whispered: "What if" and that speck of her heart that murmured "Maybe".

Finally, she spotted him. He had returned with the final evening hunting patrol, led by the new deputy. Dawnstrike strode proudly at the front of the patrol, holding himself with the prowess of a newly appointed deputy. She was sure he'd be a good one. Timbermask's head hung low, his tail scraped small, snaking trails in the sandy ground, and is emerald eyes were dark. She watched as he unceremoniously dropped two starlings on the top of the pile. She licked her lips, knowing she couldn't eat live prey anymore. She watched as he made his way into the empty warriors den as others shared tongues, his posture stooped and defeated.

Kestrelwind approached him before he entered the den, her eyes large and hopeful.

"Hey Timbermask, I was wondering if you wanted to eat with me tonight?" She asked, paws bouncing a little with anticipation.

"No, thank you. I'm pretty tired." Timbermask replied quietly. "If it's all the same to you, I think I'll sleep early tonight." He then turned away and vanished into the darkness of the den, leaving Kestrelwind looking lost and upset at the entrance. As Whitefang passed her, she heard the dappled cinnamon she-cat mumble resentfully:

"He says that every night."

Her heart sank.

She entered the den.

Using the last of her energy, Whitefang made herself seem alive once more, and her fresh scent wafted across the open space of the den, over the large, soft mounds of moss to one nest in particular. Timbermask's ears twitched, and he looked up to see her glowing figure in the lightless space.

"Whitefang," He breathed.

"Hi," She mewed, at a loss for what else to say.

"What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be with the kits? With Swanmist? In Starclan?" He asked her so many questions all at once, she felt somewhat assaulted.

"I just came from Riverclan. Falconshade is good to them, as is most of the Clan-"

"Most of it?"

"Ad Hazelkit and Blossomkit have adjusted well. I'm sure they'll be fine. Wolfkit is struggling at the moment, but Falconshade is persistent and gentle. Soon, he'll be just like any other Riverclan kit." She mewed, ignoring his inquiry. Falconshade did not press the subject.

"How is Swanmist?" He asked.

"Okay." She replied with a single word. Timbermask frowned.

"And that's it?" He mewed after a long period of silence. "This is all you have to say? You come back to what, deliver some rehearsed report?" He was angry, which she understood.

"I know you're upset, but-"

"Upset? Upset doesn't begin to cover it. I _loved_ you and now you're gone, and the kits are gone, and everything I cared about in my life is gone." Timbermask wailed miserably.

"What about your siblings? Your nieces and nephews? Your parents?" She questioned. Timbermask laughed, and it was hollow.

"They keep their distance. They know how I feel. You don't understand, Whitefang, you can't begin to understand what I feel. Those kits were like my own flesh and blood, I loved you with all my heart, and now you're both worlds away." Whitefang puffed up furiously.

"YOU THINK I DON'T UNDERSTAND?" She howled, pounding her paws into the earth, "I'M DEAD! I WILL NEVER TOUCH MY KITS AGAIN, I WILL NOT BE ABLE TO ATTEND THEIR CEREMONIES, MEET THEIR KITS, GROW OLD WITH MY MATE AND FAMILY! I WILL NEVER GROW OLD, I WILL NEVER FEEL THE WIND AND SUN ON MY PELT EVER AGAIN. I MADE A MISTAKE! I MADE A TERRIBLE, TERRIBLE MISTAKE! AND NOW I HAVE TO PAY FOR IT WITH THE REST OF MY MISERABLE EXISTENCE IN THIS STARCLAN FORSAKEN SKY PRISON!" Whitefang screamed, venting all of her pent up anger and sorrow. Timbermask crouched beneath the force of her wrath, cowering in the corner. She paused to breathe, glaring at him.

"You coward. You're hiding from everyone. I go around to make my amends, to spend the rest of my infinite time here doing things for those I care about. And yet you shield yourself from my words, my emotions. You coward. You can't even stand up and face me like a true warrior. You're not who I thought you were. I was foolish to come here." She snarled, releasing her hold on the mortal world and sending herself to Starclan.

**Damn, Whitefang! Release your feels!**

**QOTD: Opinions on Appleclaw, Paledove, Timbermask, Addershriek, and Blueshine? And maybe Whitefang, too, for old time's sake. Opinions!**

**Love you all, this was enormous and nowI am tired. Wish me luck in tryouts!**

**Later gators,**

**Bright!**


	77. Trouble Afoot

Infuriated, Whitefang stalked the grounds of Starclan. Her golden eyes blazed with anger, with sorrow, with guilt. _I never should've done it._ The endless chorus ricocheted about her whirling mind like a tornado. She felt small, vulnerable in comparison to the events of the world. There were things she couldn't help, and those she could. _I never should've left._ She had been selfish; she had been cruel; she had been naïve. Guilt had been the predator, and she the prey. Like the best of them, it had bested her and devoured her sense like a ravenous beast, and once it had licked her bones clean, it spat out what was left: a pile of broken dreams and a few sharp fragments of what was once a mighty warrior. _This is all my fault._ They were suffering because of _her_. If she'd never left, the kits would be at home in Shadowclan with both their parents. Paledove and Stonetail wouldn't be so distant, so shattered. _Maybe I never should've existed at all._ She decided, the words seeping through her like the most corrosive venom. She could picture it: Swanmist the only child, adored. Paledove and Stonetail would have raised her right, no doubt, and she would have her kits with Timbermask. Appleclaw never would have met her, never would have fallen into a love so deep it drowned him. He would've found a wonderful mate in Thunderclan, had wonderful kits, been happy. Timbermask would be with the one he was meant to spend his life with, and maybe Barkpaw would have stayed. Maybe Addershriek and Blueshine would've stayed together, maybe Swanmist wouldn't have died, or lost her first litter. Falconshade would've settled down in Riverclan, found someone else to shower in endless adoration. The kits would've never been born, never had to suffer so much.

"But then they wouldn't have lived." A soft voice spoke from behind her.

"Swanmist?" Whitefang asked, for the gentle tones sounded so much like her sister. _Where has she been?_

"No, love, I'm not your sister." The voice sighed. She turned, and found herself facing the warm blue gaze and white face of her grandmother.

"Fallensnow," She breathed. "Why was I born? Why was I put here, to cause so much pain?" The she-cat ignored her words.

"The kits would never have lived, had you not been born." Fallensnow said simply. "Your sister would've had no companion, no partner in crime. Paledove would have never found herself, or learned the true meaning of a mother's love. Stonetail would've never had the two most precious things in his life. Your clanmates would have never been taught their lesson, been shown the terror of their vanity. Barkpaw would have been alone in a friendless world. Timbermask would have never seen who he truly is, and Addershriek would have never realized what a monster his mate had become. Shadowclan wouldn't be Shadowclan without you. Swanmist would have felt empty, the space where you would have been would always seem strange. Oh, Whitefang. Appleclaw…you did not do that to him. It was inside him all along. Do not blame yourself for things that are not your doing. Do you think Falconshade would've been truly happy without you? All the friends you've made, all the lives you've touched, nothing would be the same." Fallensnow leaned forward to touch her nose to Whitefang's.

"It's so hard. I feel so stupid." Whitefang whispered. "I never should have left."

"I cannot justify your decision to you, my love, for you must seek peace with yourself, by yourself. I can only stand by your side and support you every step of the way." Fallensnow smiled.

"Where is Swanmist? I have to find her…I have to ask her." Whitefang mumbled. "I have to know…" _Is this really what she wanted?_

"I haven't spoken to her in many moons." Fallensnow shook her head. "She does not wish to see me. You must find her yourself."

"Thank you." Whitefang said simply. She did not need to specify what she was thanking the beautiful white warrior for, because Fallensnow already knew. The she-cat dipped her head to Whitefang before turning around and padding back into the starry forest, the tip of her plumed white tail vanishing in the blink of an eye. Her grandmother's leaving her did not upset Whitefang: she knew Fallensnow would always be there. But Swanmist…_I have to find her._ She took off into the wilderness, eyes bright, paws swift as they pounded the ground with a thundering passion. _Where does she stay? Someone must know._

"Swanmist!" She called, "Swanmist, where are you?" She crashed through a line of berry bushes and stumbled into a sparkling clearing. Dead apprentices swatted at each other, yowling and cheering playfully. They all paused to look up at her.

"Hello!" A small golden tom mewed. "Can we help you?"

"Have you seen my sister? She's white and silver…with green eyes…her name is Swanmist." Whitefang explained, catching her breath. The apprentices glanced at each other, and most shrugged.

"Nope, sorry!" A black and white she-cat apologized sincerely.

"Um…do you guys know where she might be?" Whitefang asked a different question. She remembered someone had said something about where Swanmist stayed…the words wouldn't come to her, but she knew she'd recognize them.

"That depends." A muscular brown tabby tom mused, looking at her with bright blue eyes. He was almost big enough to be a warrior, and she hated that he had died in the prime of his youth.

"Depends on what?" Their unhelpfulness was irritating.

"Where she goes." A rosy-orange she-cat piped up.

"Well, she's from Shadowclan…she's been acting a little lost recently…she seems sick. Can you get sick in Starclan?" Before she'd even finished, the young cats were giving each other knowing looks.

"You'll find her where the empty ones wander." The golden tom said.

"Where?" Whitefang asked, aggravated.

"The darker corners." A small cream she-cat whispered, "Near the border."

"Border of what?" Whitefang snapped.

"The border." The black and white she-cat shuddered. "I wouldn't go there if I were you!"

"Will someone take me there?" Whitefang wondered hopefully. All shook their heads.

"No way, lady!" The brown tabby tom frowned. "You'd have to be crazy."

"It's cold there." The cream she-cat spoke again.

"But…if you find Brightkit and Whisperkit, they might take you there." The gold tom offered. "They usually stay by the Shadowclan nursery. They're the ones who look after most of the Shadowclan wanderers."

"Alright, thank you. Where is this nursery?" Whitefang asked.

"Go on the path lined with hawthorns, and stay right. It will take you there." The black and white she-cat said. "Good luck!" Then, they went back to their game. Whitefang rolled her eyes and turned away. She wondered if she and Swanmist had been as unhelpful as these cats when they were apprentices. _Of course we weren't! _She thought. She glanced about at the trailheads: one was very worn, very wide. At its entrance sat a proud birch sapling. A few paw steps away was a shadowed path that stunk of skunk. Beside that was a path that glittered, for it was streaked with patchy stripes of sunshine. It was lined with many lush hawthorns, and Whitefang started down it right away. The sun flashed across her pelt, turning the tangled white fur to a shimmering pale gold. It stung her eyes, and she stared instead at the ground, which was littered with pine needles. Small, sharp pebbles protruded through the soft green and orange fronds that coated the squishy dirt, and with every step, one pebble would lodge in between the pads of her toes. Whitefang ignored the jabs, focusing instead on the journey.

_Why would none of them lead me?_ She wondered, turning right. _Why would Swanmist stay in the dark? What is the border? _Questions buzzed through her mind, and she continued to stay right. She wondered if the apprentices had le her the wrong way, or if they'd somehow told her the wrong path to take. Or maybe she'd misheard them. Pushing away her doubts, she continued walking.

Eventually, the path widened and Whitefang found herself standing at the mouth of an enormous clearing. It was modeled after Shadowclan camp: she recognized the build and position of each of the dens, though they were all much larger than she would have thought. She wondered if this was where all dead cats of Shadowclan stayed. She knew few of the many figures that roamed the camp: Honeygaze had just dropped a rabbit atop the enormous freshkill pile, and her eyes lit up as soon as she saw Whitefang.

"Whitefang!" She called cheerily, darting over. Whitefang purred as she greeted the young warrior, who had died sooner than she, at the prime of her youth.

"Hello!" Whitefang smiled.

"I haven't seen you here before, did you just find it?" Honeygaze asked. "It's almost just like home."

"It's lovely," Whitefang admitted, "Does everyone stay here?"

"Well, we sleep here. And lots of us sorta pretend we're alive again, you know? There's no patrols, but we still go out and hunt in groups and stuff like that. I've met so many cats! Everyone's so nice, Whitefang! Come, let me show you around." Honeygaze said excitedly, and Whitefang nodded. She felt out of place among so many new faces, as if she had to prove herself all over again.

"Hey, Hollyshade, this is Whitefang. Whitefang, this is my friend Hollyshade." Honeygaze introduced her to a she-cat who looked up from the starling she was eating. She licked her lips, and purred welcomingly.

"Hello, Whitefang. We've all heard much about you. Fallensnow speaks so highly of you!" The black and gray warrior's voice was kind.

"Fallensnow stays here?" Whitefang asked, surprised.

"Sometimes." Hollyshade replied. "And when she does, she tells wonderful stories."

"How long have you-" Whitefang didn't finish her question, instead looking away abashedly. "Sorry."

"Many moons." Hollyshade shrugged. "Many lifetimes, actually. Long enough so that I no longer need to visit the living. Does that answer your question?"

"Yes." Whitefang answered, humiliated.

"Don't be upset, it's only natural to wonder." Hollyshade assured her. "Have you ever come to the camp before?" Whitefang shook her head.

"Never."

"Then welcome." Hollyshade grinned. "There are plenty of nests in the warrior's den, if you wish. Make yourself at home."

"Come on!" Honeygaze urged her.

"It was nice meeting you," Whitefang meowed.

"I'll see you around." Hollyshade dipped her head pleasantly before going back to her meal. Whitefang followed her excited friend to a large den.

"This is the warrior's den!" Honeygaze announced. "We expand it all the time."

"It could fit ten Clans!" Whitefang exclaimed, poking her head inside. She spotted Frecklestep and called to him. He raised his tail in greeting before going back to sleep beside a strange she-cat. She smelled of Riverclan.

"Cats of other Clans stay here too?" Whitefang wondered.

"Yeah, sometimes. We call it camp, not Shadowclan camp. But still, usually cats of the same Clan stick together. His mate is very nice, though. You'll like her." The young warrior withdrew from the den, turning to the one beside it. It was well constructed, made up of thick, woven bracken fronds and nestled in a clump of mossy ferns. The entrance was a small, dark hole, and even from outside Whitefang smelled something soft, milky and warm. It brought back many memories.

"The nursery," She breathed. Honeygaze nodded.

"Yes it is! Now, over here we have-"

"Sorry, Honeygaze, but there's someone I need to see in here. Could we continue the tour a little later?" Whitefang asked hurriedly, feeling terrible. Her friend's face fell.

"Oh. Well, sure, I guess. Good luck." The pretty tortoiseshell mewed disappointedly.

"I'm sorry, it's just that Brightkit and Whisperkit know where to find Swanmist." Whitefang explained. Honeygaze's smile returned.

"Oh! All right then. I'll see you later Whitefang, I hope you find her!" She said pleasantly.

"Thank you. I hope so, too." The white warrior replied before entering the nursery. Instantly, her eyes had to adjust to the darkness.

"Brightkit?" She called softly, "Whisperkit? Are you two in here?" A small bit of scuffling ensued, and a pale golden face shone through the dark.

"Who's asking?" She meowed suspiciously. Her yellow eyes blazed like small suns.

"Whitefang." She answered, holding the she-cat's gaze. The queen scowled.

"Her sister. Haven't they helped her enough?" Another voice said bitterly, and Whitefang caught a glimpse of a dark gray shape shifting its weight in the corner of the den, coiled about three sleeping newborns. Probably stillborn She winced.

"Goldenmoon, it's alright." A small voice squeaked.

"But it's your nap time!" The queen protested.

"Not anymore." Whisperkit mewed quietly, "This is important to her, I can tell."

"So be it. Be home by evening!" The queen sighed, looking down at the two little ones who had appeared by her paws. Brightkit had a blazing ginger pelt much like his father's, while Whisperkit was slender and a lighter shade of orange than her brother. Both nodded politely, welcoming Whitefang.

"We'll speak outside." Brightkit said authoritatively. Whitefang was taken aback: their voices were those of older, wiser cats. She dipped her head, and backed quickly out of the den. The kits followed, meeting her outside.

"You seem surprised, Whitefang." Brightkit said once they had seated themselves outside the nursery. His eyes twinkled with amusement.

"You sound far older than any kits I've ever seen," Whitefang admitted. Whisperkit smiled.

"Starclan made sure we were special." She mewed quietly.

"And if that meant blessing us with wisdom beyond our years, so be it." Brightkit agreed. "Why did you come to see us, Whitefang? It must be important if you deigned to seek us in our home."

"I had no idea there was a place like this here," Whitefang replied, "and it was a bit of a shock to hear you still had a naptime." She grinned, and Brightkit purred.

"We decided it would be unwise to do away completely with such things." The little tom laughed, "and Goldenmoon is a good mother. We hope that we do not have to see our real parents or our siblings here for a long time yet. So tell us, Whitefang, what is it that you seek?"

"I need to find Swanmist." She said. The kits exchanged a look.

"As we suspected." Brightkit said after a moment. "but your sister is difficult to reach. She is a recluse."

"But all wanderers can be found, right?" Whitefang mewed hopefully.

"In most cases, yes." Whisperkit said softly, "But she prefers to stay away."

"Why?" Whitefang asked in distress, "Why stay away when there is so much for her here?"

"Maybe she believes otherwise." Whisperkit mewed.

"Either way, she has had a difficult time adjusting to life here." Brightkit explained, "We have a vague idea of where she stays, but beyond that we cannot help you."

"Could you take me there?" Whitefang asked.

"Yes." Whisperkit sighed.

"Though we had vowed never to return there again, we will exempt this one time from our oaths." Brightkit added.

"Thank you." Whitefang said gratefully, "This means so much to me." Brightkit looked at Whisperkit, and then turned back to Whitefang.

"We do, however, have one question for you." Brightkit said.

"Anything." Whitefang replied, relieved.

"Down in the territories, did you see anything of our parents?" He asked. For once, Whitefang noted a kitlike innocence in his face and voice. Her heart softened.

"Your father was chosen as the new deputy, and your mother is very proud of him. Your sister is expecting her first litter with Lightheart, who is well on his way to taking after your father as deputy. Your brother has turned into a fine young warrior, and your parents visit your graves everyday. They love you very much, little ones." She murmured. Brightkit and Whisperkit relaxed visibly, and their demeanors were far lighter than they'd been previously.

"Thank you." Whisperkit sighed.

"We will bring you to your sister now." Brightkit added as he rose to his paws. Whisperkit did the same, and they walked in tandem to the camp exit. Whitefang followed them, her heart swelling with hope. _Swanmist will come out for me, I know it._

* * *

><p>They stood at the edge of a wide clearing, staring into shadowed woods.<p>

"Swanmist!" Whitefang called. "Swanmist, are you here?"

"She may not come," Whisperkit warned.

"She has to!" Whitefang insisted, "Swanmist!"

"Whitefang? What are you doing here?" He sister's soft, musical voice sounded from the darkness. She padded out from between the trees, eyes wide and curious.

"I came to find you!" Whitefang purred. Swanmist smiled, but her face was worn and drawn.

"What's wrong?" Swanmist asked. "Do you need me?" The white warrior's brow furrowed. _Does she not want to see me?_

"Can't I come to say hi?" She mewed worriedly. "Swanmist, are you alright?"

"I'm ok, Whitefang, just tired." Swanmist shrugged. "I haven't been sleeping very well."

"Oh," Whitefang frowned. "Swanmist…I visited Shadowclan today. Mother says you never visit."

"You talked to her? To them?" Swanmist wondered, eyes wide.

"Yes, they miss you. They miss _us_." Whitefang mewed gently, pressing her shoulder to her sister's. The she-cat was shaking. "Did you know Stonetail retired?"

"To the elder's den? But then who is deputy?" Swanmist gasped.

"Dawnstrike," Whitefang answered, "Did you really not know?"

"No…"Swanmist murmured.

"Paledove has gone crazy; she misses all of us. She has nothing left. you should visit her!" Whitefang implored.

"She wouldn't want to see me…" Swanmist mumbled.

"But she does!" Whitefang insisted, trying to meet her sister's pale green gaze. "Please."

"And how is Timbermask?" Swanmist asked, changing the subject.

"I'd rather not discuss him." Whitefang scowled. Swanmist glanced at her but made no further comments. Whitefang sighed. "Sister, just tell me if something is bothering you so we can-"

"Whitefang!" A voice shrieked from behind her. Both she-cats turned, eyes wide as they saw Briarheart racing toward them.

"Who is that?" Swanmist wondered.

"Briarheart!" Whitefang cried. "What is it? Is something wrong?"

"The kits!" The old she-cat gasped, "They're in trouble!"

**Wowsoit's been like forever. Sorry, guys! AP classes are taking their tole and this is the first time I've had time to write in a while. Apologies! And for all those who accuse me of not updating because I'm collecting reviews: it's a good assumption, but incorrect. I'm sorry to disappoint you negative nellies!**

**QOTD: Kits in trouble? Swanmist a recluse? A camp? These things are important, right?**

**Laters gators!**

**-Bright (BTW I'm posting a Timbermask thing soon, once this whole story is over...and that will be in three chapters.) **


	78. And All was Dark

Fear. Panic. Rage. Guilt. They swirled about her heart like dark storm clouds, and thunder was rumbling on the horizon. Whitefang wasted no time: she willed herself to the territories like a lightning flash, a bolt, without even closing her eyes. She didn't need to think. She didn't need to imagine it. She saw her children's faces and her heart knew where to go.

In an instant she was on the ground. Though she couldn't feel it, she knew her paws were hammering across the marshy land and through the barren, watery fields. She wanted to scream, but knew they wouldn't answer. They couldn't hear her. They couldn't see her. She couldn't protect them. But she called their names anyway.

"Blossomkit!" She howled, her voice a tornado of emotion, and her screams tore at her throat as sharp as claws. "Hazelkit, Wolfkit! I'm coming!" Her heart hammered and air burst from her mouth in short gusts, blowing hot breath against her muzzle as she ran. "Hazelkit! Wolfkit! Blossomkit!" She howled. "Kits! My kits!" No one could hear her; no one knew her pain. She didn't know what was happening to them, but she felt something was wrong. All afternoon something had been wrong, and she was too _stupid_ to realize it. _My kits…_ Her mind was racing and she panted desperately, urging herself onward. _My kits…_ "Wolfkit!" She shrieked, "Blossomkit!" Her lungs seemed to shrink: she couldn't catch her breath. Her paws tripped over each other, and she stumbled. "Hazelkit!" She wailed. "Mama's coming!"

* * *

><p>"Should we?" Hazelkit mumbled, "It sounds dangerous."<p>

"Maybe it would show Streamdash we're strong." Blossomkit argued.

"We have to, Hazelkit!" Wolfkit insisted, "Nobody here respects us anyways. If we chase that mangy beast off, everyone will like us better." They'd been in Riverclan for a moon now, and Wolfkit had finally conceded that Falconshade wasn't a terrible cat. In fact, father and son had a stronger bond than ever. Wolfkit had suddenly, somehow become more invested in Riverclan life. It may have had something to do with their uncle teaching them battle moves, or their cousins giving them their first swimming lessons. It could've been Shimmerstar's approving nod, or even the taste of fresh caught trout, which was his favorite. Whatever it was, Shadowclan was far from each of their minds. They still missed their mother, of course, but it seems that they'd pushed Timbermask far from each of their minds. He was a distant shadow, someone of lesser importance, someone they'd known for too short a time to leave a lasting impression. Falconshade was nearly the perfect father: if mother was there too, he would be everything they'd ever wanted.

"But they _do_ respect us!" Hazelkit huffed, "It's just Streamdash…"

"And Flintfoot and Slightfur and Swallowtail and Mallowheart and Rushsong and Crowshade and Cloverspots and Lighthawk," Wolfkit rattled a list off of names he'd memorized: their disapproving faces were etched into his mind as well.

"And Duskheart." Blossomkit added. Hazelkit glanced at the two of them and sighed.

"I still don't think it's a good idea." He muttered, looking down at his paws as he shuffled them uncertainly in the dirt.

"Well, I do." Blossomkit announced. "And Wolfkit does too, which means the vote is two to one, which means we're going."

"Guys! What if Shimmerstar delays our apprentice ceremonies!" Hazelkit protested.

"She won't, because that fox will be long gone. And everyone will have us to thank!" Wolfkit grinned triumphantly, "Then they'll see we're real warriors!"

"Fine." Hazelkit mewed dejectedly, "But if we get in trouble, this was all your fault." He glared at his siblings.

"And when we succeed, and everyone praises us, we'll make sure to tell them you almost wussed out," Blossomkit stuck her tongue out at her brother teasingly, "now come on, let's go."

"Follow me! I know the perfect way." Wolfkit said excitedly, "We'll go out through the hole in the back of the nursery." The tangled-furred white tom's blue eyes sparkled as he led his siblings back into the nursery, but they were stopped by a large orange tabby paw. Looking up into a broad ginger face, Wolfkit's eyes met a pair of the same shade.

"And where do you three think you're going?" Falconshade rumbled. Blossomkit smiled up at her father innocently, and he purred.

"We wanted to go in and clean our nest, Papa." She mewed sweetly. He nuzzled her head and laughed.

"You three? Clean the nest voluntarily?" He joked, "That's impossible!"

"We found good new moss on the willow near the elder's den, and we thought it would be fun to collect it ourselves, like apprentices do." Hazelkit said earnestly. Falconshade nodded.

"Alright. I like the responsibility I'm seeing here today! Maybe next time you'll catch your own supper, too!" His blue eyes twinkled, and his voice had an approving tone. Wolfkit smiled.

"Only if you teach us!" He said slyly.

"We'll see," Falconshade replied with a grin. "No go ahead and do your thing. I'll see you later, little ones." He licked each of their cheeks gently before padding away to join his patrol.

"Bye Papa!" They chorused before scampering into the nursery. Blossomkit was the lookout. As they entered, she raised her tail, signaling for silence, as she crept forward to look over the mountainous humps of moss that made of the six nests of each of the queens, and theirs. Over the emerald mounds, she could spy only two shapes: Softberry, who was napping, and Lilystep. Lilystep was a young queen, drowsily nursing her young kits. They were newborns when Wolfkit, Blossomkit, and Hazelkit had arrived in Riverclan, and were still very young. Lilystep was drowsy, her copper eyes lidded and distant. The kits suckled quietly, and one was already asleep, his mouth still wrapped about his mother's teat. As soon as Blossomkit had decided the two queens and the three little kits were no threat to the mission, she flicked her ears: it was all clear. The trio of kits, now three moons old, hurried across the den to the little gap at the back: the queens were too distracted to fix it, and the warriors too lazy. It was late Greenleaf, and the chilling winds of Leaffall would not be coming for some time. The nursery was fine for now. Wolfkit slipped through first, his thick pelt getting caught for a moment of the brambles before he tore it loose. Blossomkit wriggled through next, and Hazelkit followed last of all, each step cautious as they emerged into the territory.

"Wow!" Wolfkit exclaimed. "Everything is so big!" The tall water-grasses swayed in the breeze, and glinted gold and green in the sunlight. The sky was a vast expanse of the perfect blue: cloudless, it seemed to shine with endless possibilities. A heron soared overhead, its great wings spread wide and its long neck stretched out so its shadow, when it glided serenely over the kittens, formed a long, slender shape that encompassed them all. Blossomkit shivered with excitement, and Hazelkit stared about in awe. This was more sunlight than they had ever had in Shadowclan camp, more than they'd ever had in their lives. In the distance, they saw the pointed pine treetops that seemed to form a menacing barrier about Riverclan. Blossomkit frowned as she stared at it; she tried to remember what life was like there. She vaguely recalled a tortie tom with green eyes, their leader, as well as the shapes of her clanmates. She heard a deep voice, a soft voice, that lulled them to sleep, but could not match it to a face. She remembered her grandparents: the silver she-cat with the broken blue gaze, and the gray tom with the white splash on his chest, who told the most wonderful stories. She remembered her mother: Whitefang stood tall and proud in her memories, a glorious figure of strength and love whose golden eyes glowed like small suns. Her pelt stood pale against the green of the forest, and her laugh was like music. These same memories came to her brothers as well, and they all cringed when they envisioned their beautiful mother on the ground in a pool of silver, her pelt dull and cold and her scent stale, and they remembered her vigil. She had never stood again, and the next day the elders had taken her away. Out of the three, only one could see the tom who'd settled them back in the nursery; Wolfkit remembered his pale brown tabby stripes and forest-y scent, and the way his emerald green eyes seemed to smile. He pushed the memory away: Timbermask was not his father. Timbermask had lied.

"We've got to keep moving." Wolfkit mewed, breaking their silence. Blossomkit nodded, still shaken by the image of Whitefang cold and still in Shadowclan camp. Hazelkit stretched and shook the thoughts from his head as if to clear it.

"I'm ready," He said.

"Which way?" Blossomkit wondered. The world seemed so big now. So intimidating.

"I heard Shimmerstar say they found it to the east." Wolfkit said. The late afternoon sun was already sinking in the sky: he turned the opposite way. "That way. And she said its den was under the great maple in a briar thicket." The tom began to walk confidently to the eastern side of Riverclan territory, glancing over his shoulder. "Just follow me, ok?"

"Alright." Blossomkit nodded.

"I still think was a bad idea…" Hazelkit mumbled, but he trudged grudgingly after his siblings as they trekked on into the wilderness.

* * *

><p>"Wolfkit!" Whitefang screamed. Her voice carried across the fields of swaying grass that grew tall out of the fen, but she knew no one could hear it. "Blossomkit! Hazelkit!" For the thousandth time she howled her children's names, and for the thousandth time she saw the same rock she'd raced by before. <em>I'm going in circles. I'll never find them. They're all going to die.<em> She felt it in her chest like a thorn, slowly digging its way deeper into her heart. She felt as though she would bleed out right there on that very ground, staining the golden reeds red beneath a perfect Greenleaf-blue sky. _Greenleaf blue._ She wanted to scream, to tear out her fur and die again. _Do Starclan cats bleed?_ She wondered. _Red or silver? Can I die again? _She wanted to give up, to leave this world a second time out of grief and guilt, but then she heard the scream.

"Papa!" It was long and drawn out, high pitched and afraid. It was a child's scream. It was her daughter's voice.

"Blossomkit!" Whitefang howled in response, but was only greeted by a wild wail. Hazelkit. She raced toward the sound, legs flying, and all of a sudden she was lightning. A burst, a bolt, a flash. She sped through the air like a raging beast, faster than anything she'd ever felt before: the faint breeze became jabbing needles of air, her face felt as though it were peeling back. But she knew she had to reach them. If she couldn't save them, could she at least be there when they left?

She arrived at the scene, and in an instant her pupils dilated with fear. It was far worse than she'd imagined. The kits were cornered: their backs pressed against a wall of thorny briars, they little paws scrabbling uselessly in the dirt as the red beats bore down on them. Its yellow fangs – ragged, sharp, and menacing – glistened with saliva that poured from the sides of its black lipped mouth. Brilliant red fur stood up along its spine, and black eyes glittered like cold stones in its skull. Black ears pressed back against its head, and the fox snarled. Blossomkit shrieked, and Whitefang watched in horror as Wolfkit stepped in front of his sister to take the blow. The fox raised one strong black paw, claws unsheathed, and prepared to strike.

"No!" Whitefang shrieked, collapsing to the ground as she stared at her kits. She couldn't tear her gaze away. "No, please! Please, don't hurt them! Wolfkit!" As she braced for the blow, her son's icy glare never wavered, and he planted his paws firmly into the dirt, legs locked. She recognized that stance. She _knew_ that stance. _"Help me!" _Swanmist's kit-voice rang inside her head. _"Swankit! It's a badger set! We have to get out of here, I won't leave you behind!"_

"Wolfkit!" A voice that wasn't hers, that wasn't theirs, shouted. A pale ginger flash, and the fox was jolted away from the briar patch, away from the kits. A she-cat clung to its back: she was all fight, all fury. Her claws flashed in the sun and her teeth dug deep into the beast's shoulder. It howled in pain and rage, but more cats came. A large brown tom –she recognized him vaguely – threw himself at its flank, and a long-legged cinnamon colored tom darted about its legs, nipping and scratching. The three cats attacked in unison: they were a whirl of teeth and claws, skilled and seasoned warriors. A fourth and final cat took her son up in her mouth, and her skinny brown and white shape sprinted away, tucking the little tom behind a jumble of boulders some ten tail lengths away before returning for Blossomkit. Hazelkit cowered alone by the briars now, staring in shock at the patrol as it forced the fox even further back from the den. The rescuing she-cat took up Hazelkit in her jaws and hurried back to the boulders. She left them there, and went into the den. Whitefang heard a series of yips and yelps. _Fox kits! _She thought, racing in behind the Riverclan warrior without a second thought. The she-cat was in there alone, her brown and white pelt bushed up so she looked twice her size and twice as menacing. She hissed and yowled at the fox kits, who tumbled over each other to get out; there were two of them, and they hurried out into the late afternoon light as quick as crickets, joining their mother as the grown fox lept away from the warriors with haste. The mother rounded up her kits and drove them away from the Riverclanners, the two toms chasing them through the marshland as the pale ginger she-cat ran back to the rocks.

"What were you doing out here?" She growled. Blossomkit and Hazelkit shuddered as Wolfkit met her angry stare evenly.

"We wanted to show you we were warriors!" He said, standing his ground.

"You aren't warrior, you're only kits!" The she-cat spat.

"But Tansyfoot, no one treats us like-" Wolfkit argued, but his cousin cut him off.

"No! No one treats you like warriors because you're little kits who don't know any better! You coming out here was stupid, and you three should be ashamed. If Lilystep hadn't noticed you were gone, you'd be dead! Your father will be hearing abut this immediately, and Shimmerstar already knows what you've done! You could've been killed!" The she-cat paused to take a breath. "Streamdash didn't want to send a patrol after you. She called you a waste of effort! No, do you know what they'll think? They'll think you're foolish! Even worse, they'll think you're irresponsible! Or maybe they'll decide that you're traitors, and that you were planning to run back to Shadowclan. You wanted to prove your worth, Wolfkit? Now you'll have to prove your worth and loyalty a hundred times over just to get back what you've lost." The tom shrank back with every word, his eyes darkening as he realized what she said was true. They hadn't only put their lives in jeopardy: they put their futures in the Clan at stake. Even though they'd survived, they might not have wanted to. Whitefang held her breath.

"But at least you're alive." Tansyfoot sighed, and Whitefang could breath again. Their older cousin scooped them closer with a single paw ad held the close to her beating chest. "And that's what really matters to me."

"So you still love us?" Hazelkit asked. Tansyfoot gazed at him, the light in her eyes softer now.

"Never doubt that for a moment," She held him closer to her heart, "Do you feel the beat? Your blood runs through my veins too. You're my kin. I couldn't hate you even if you tried to kill a thousand foxes." Blossomkit smiled meekly up at her older cousin.

"Did Shimmerstar send a patrol out for us?" Wolfkit asked, still shivering. Whitefang wanted to wrap herself around the brave little tom.

"No, Lilystep told me and I organized this myself." Tansyfoot shook her head, "Shimmerstar was notified when she returned to camp, and by then we'd already left. Hazelnose and the others knew as well as I did that we had no time to spare."

"It's gone over the Thunderclan border." Rowanleap said, returning to the boulder where the others waited. By his side was Troutfur, and Hazelnose limped along behind them. Whitefang looked over at the warriors: she remembered Troutfur vaguely, but from what or where she could not recall. She recognized Hazelnose from gatherings, and Rowanleap she'd never spoken to before, but he was quite handsome. Not as much so as Falconshade, but Whitefang had noticed him here and there and on patrol before. Tansyfoot had been pointed out to her once by her mate. The pale ginger she-cat nodded at her companions, and scooped Wolfkit up in her mouth. Hazelnose took Blossomkit, and Rowanleap retrieved Hazelkit. Troutfur followed them as they made their way back to camp, and Whitefang trotted by her niece's side.

* * *

><p>"What were you thinking?" Falconshade's anguished cry sounded as soon as they came back to camp. The three kits – scratched, weary, and small – were placed on the ground and he rushed to them like a frog to a fly. "I was so worried, and Tansyfoot went out to find you and great Starclan, that was a stupid, reckless idea!" He gathered them all in his paws and held them close, purring with relief. "At least you're alright."<p>

"Yes, but at what cost?" Streamdash growled, "Four of our warriors are injured, and three half-breeds are caught sneaking back to Shadowclan! Tell me, pests, where does your loyalty lie?" The silver she-cat glared at the kits furiously, but was tossed aside with an icy stare from Shimmerstar, who strode through the crowd as if she were Starclan-sent.

"Silence!" the dark silver tabby called, and the crowd grew hushed.

"Please, Shimmerstar, we were only trying to help! We thought if-" Blossomkit began, but was cut off almost immediately.

"You thought? It seems to me you did _not_ contemplate the consequences of your actions, and that is why you stand here before me in this predicament." Her fiery amber gaze was stern and unyielding. Blossomkit shrank from it.

"But we did think!" Wolfkit spoke strongly "We thought that if we killed the fox, we'd get your respect!"

"And did you honestly think you could kill the beast?" Shimmerstar mused, her voice cold, "Three kits, kill a fox, when four of our best warriors can only drive it off? You're delusional, no doubt."

"It was stupid, and we know that now, but we had good intentions!" Wolfkit argued, blue eyes ablaze with passion.

"Good intentions that nearly cost you and four others their lives." Shimmerstar meowed firmly. "For this, you should be punished." Mutters of assent rose from the crowd, while others looked dubious.

"They're kits!" A slender gray-brown tabby protested. His dark blue eyes were concerned. "Just kits, sister." Whitefang glanced at him; the tom was slight, with large ears and large eyes and a long tail, all which seemed too big for his waif-like body. Yet, he had a kind of wiry strength to him, and his voice was kind and sincere. It was clear that he was well respected same as his sister.

"Which leads me to my next point, Creekfall," Shimmerstar said impatiently, "They are only kits, just three moons old, and they cannot be completely aware or be held entirely responsible for their actions. And, seeing as it is Greenleaf and it would not be just of me to confine growing young ones to the nursery, they will instead be assigned to take over the apprentice's job – they must take care of the elders – for a week. Maybe then you will grow wiser and not make such mistakes again." The great leader eyed the kits, and each nodded vigorously, grateful that they weren't sent away. Falconshade sighed with relief. _Shimmerstar, thank you!_ Whitefang thought joyously. But a low growl sounded from the crowd, and an enormous light silver tabby emerged fro the audience. His fiery amber eyes narrowed as he glared at his leader.

"You're too trusting of these cats, child, and one day they'll turn their traitor half-breed backs on you and all of Riverclan! Such a light punishment is not justice!" He snarled. Shimmerstar met his gaze, and hers seemed to burn him.

"As your daughter, I would have hoped you'd understand the naivety of kits and delicate position you all have put me in," she began calmly, "but as your leader I must not wait for your approval. My word is final, and a leader's word is the law. Don't you forget it." She warned, her tone sharp and threatening. He backed away, but not without spitting at her feet. Others in the Clan left the assembly with his, and only those who supported her decision remained.

"You are dismissed." Shimmerstar told them before turning and stalking off back to her den, her tail swishing furiously at her clanmates' defiance.

"You're lucky she's wise beyond her years." Falconshade tutted, watching his leader walk away. The ginger tabby then turned and began to herd them toward the freshkill pile. "Go choose your supper and meet me by our nest." He murmured, watching them hurry away, little bellies growling. He smiled. Whitefang over at Shimmerstar, who was joined by a blue-gray tom, his white paws silent on the soft peat ground and his pale gold eyes gentle. Then, she returned her gaze to her mate.

"Falconshade," She sighed, wishing he could hear her. He did. Ear twitching, his head swung toward her voice. Realizing her couldn't see her, and that making herself visible was unwise in such a crowded camp, she pressed against him and let him feel her warmth and smell her scent. His eyelids fluttered as he basked in her presence.

"Whitefang." He whispered sweetly. "Oh, Whitefang."

"My love, your niece was brave today. She saved our kits," Whitefang remembered the fox's fangs and shuddered, "You should thank her."

"Whitefang I- I miss you so much. I wish you were here, with us. Maybe then they wouldn't have had to be saved." Falconshade sighed, touching his muzzle to her cheek briefly before pulling away.

"All the same, speak with her. I miss you, Falconshade. Be there for them. You're doing wonderfully." She murmured before fading away from his senses. He tensed as she left him, and his eyes misted. She hated to see him like this, but her energy was fading fast. He shook his head to clear it, and she watched him go and thank Tansyfoot. Uncle and niece stood together, watching the kits as they carried their trout happily into the nursery, a pair of queens watching them with soft smiles. Falconshade left Tansyfoot, and padded away into the darkened den to join his kits. Whitefang followed after a little while. Cautiously, she entered the den.

They'd all finished eating, and it smelled of milk, new moss, and lily blossoms. The kits were curled up by their father's flank, breathing softly and slowly, as night fell and the sky grew dark and inky. Whitefang gazed down at their small, fluffy faces: they were so peaceful as they dreamt. _You'll be safe here. Riverclan will be your home. _She promised silently. As she sat at the edge of the nest, her tail absently flicked over Hazelkit, brushing his cheeks with its feathered white tip. He stirred, mumbling in his sleep, rolling closer to his sister and burying his face in her fur. Whitefang glanced from her kit to her tail, wondering, and then reached out to tap her daughter's shoulder. The little she-kit twitched and squeaked quietly before slipping into a deeper slumber. Experimentally, she swished it against Wolfkit too. Her son's eyes peeled open slowly, pupils dilating in the darkness, and he squirmed in the nest, glancing about at the others. He didn't spy her shimmering form at the edge of the nest. _My kits…do you know me?_ She wondered, creeping closer and leaning over their little forms curled so tightly about each other. She sat beside them, and lied down to rest her flank pressed against them, snuggling them between her and their father. Blossomkit's eyelids fluttered, and she peered drowsily at her mother, the fact that the white she-cat was Whitefang not quite registering.

"Uh?" she mumbled, eyes closing fast as she struggled to stay awake. Whitefang swept her tail over the kit's face, gently shutting her eyes.

"Hush, my darling." She murmured as Blossomkit sank back into the sea of fur and scents. "Sweet dreams." Whitefang closed her own eyes and settled in to sleep beside the kittens, her paw over her mate's, her tail coiled about her family, as the chirping of crickets and splish-splash of night swimmers calmed her. Then all was dark.

**Aw, well that was cute. **

**QOTD: Two chapters left! What do you think will happen? Spoiler Alert: Major plot twist ahead.**

**;)**

**Laters Gators!**

**Bright**


	79. Pretty Face, Sour Taste

**AASDGFHDFHFJHSAADFHJIHAAD ONLY ONE MORE CHAPTER THIS IS ACTUALLY SAD**

All was quiet for a time; the kits helped with the elders, and Falconshade took every opportunity to make them comfortable. The warriors paced about camp as if walking on eggshells; with Shimmerstar a constant, looming presence, there was nothing they could do or say about the outsiders without fear of retribution. Streamdash was especially sullen, but did her best to cloak it. She dissembled well into a neutral phantom; she drifted about camp with an air of high authority, saying nothing, but her eyes betrayed her when she saw them. The trio of kits had become careful about who they could trust, and compiled a list each night of those they could not. Sometimes it shrank; sometimes it grew. It depended on the day, the circumstance, and their father. Falconshade had made it his job to convince as many clanmates as he could that there was nothing wrong with being halfclan. Love is love, he said. Few listened.

Whitefang watched this everyday from her starry haven; too many interactions with the living could prove dangerous, and affect their futures. Every Starclan cat knew that. And the more time you spent living someone else's life for them, the more you forgot yourself. The white warrior found herself more often than not conversing with those she'd never met before in the Shadowclan camp; she visited all those who she'd known once upon a time, and those she hadn't. She met her mother's father, who died before Paledove was even born. He was detached, distant from both Fallensnow and herself. He never made an attempt to speak with Swanmist, or visit his daughter. She supposed it was difficult to admit you had a family when you never truly experienced it. Her father's parents were easier. A proud couple, their names were Mistwing and Marshclaw. They took pride in their son and both of his daughters, though confided in her that they had not always approved of his pairing with Paledove. Though, now they found it had been a better choice than Blueshine would have been. They expressed their disappointment in the blue-gray she-cat and her actions very vocally, but approved of Addershriek.

"We watched you grow up," Mistwing smiled when she spoke to Whitefang, "Both you and your sister. Your father loved you two so much!"

"And you both did very well, but joined us far too young," Marshclaw shook his head sorrowfully, "tell us, Whitefang, how are the kits?"

"They're adjusting," Whitefang would reply, "Riverclan is very divided but as long as Shimmerstar is on their side I'm sure they'll be fine." Her grandparents neither approved nor disapproved of her relationship with Falconshade, and she could not gage their thoughts on her father's courtship of Goldenfrost. She didn't speak to them often, for she was far more comfortable with those she'd known in the living world. She decided that as time went on, she may realize that having a former relationship with someone in life does not dictate friendship in Starclan.

Swanmist never joined her, or accompanied her to the camp. She had grown even quieter since the incident, and Whitefang thought it might be because she missed her own kits. It had been just as much of a shock to Whitefang as it had been to Swanmist that her kits were not in the stars. After some time, she'd asked Goldenmoon where miscarried kits went, and the queen had given a rather cryptic reply.

"They're not here because they were never fully cats. Stillborn kits arrive with us because they are whole, complete, and named. Miscarried kittens and other kits of the sort that never had the opportunity to form a consciousness and were never named cannot be placed in Starclan for those reasons. There is a place…but one must never venture there, for the sadness it inflicts upon those who enter may tear you from the afterlife."

Whitefang had never asked again.

So Whitefang spoke to her friends or lolled about the portal pools, which were little windows into the world below. Whatever she wanted to see, she could see without visiting. She spent her days watching her family: the kits would play and sleep and eat and toil through their sentence without complaint, for they enjoyed the company of the elders. Her mate would hunt, patrol, play, and sleep, all while looking just as she remembered. Sometimes, she would try to reach through the pool to touch him, but her paw would merely dapple the surface in ripples, wetting her starry fur. She pined after them, and sometimes the guilt and grief was so strong she wished she could die again just to escape. But there was no escape; she would wait out the moons for them to join her once their lives were full. She would not cut her second chance short, nor would she wish her fate upon them. Her parents were less interesting, for they were old and tired and lonely. Her clanmates had gone on with their lives, and Lightheart's kits with Rosefoot were beautiful. Two toms: a bright golden-pelted kit with a white face and chest, and a rosy ginger tom with the same white markings: Bravekit and Flamekit. She adored them. Badgerkit was very nearly Badgerpaw, and Cherrynose's kits were bouncy and bubbly balls of black fur. Doestep had kitted as well, one tom identical to his mother and grandmother, and two she-kits: one was gray with ashy streaks, while the other was gray with ashy dapples. All three had their mother's eyes, and their names were, in order of appearance, Stagkit, Smokekit, and Flintkit. Cherrynose's first litter had become warriors, their names now Aspenclaw, Honeysplash, and Sorrelfang. Emberpaw was close to earning his name, and had turned into a handsome young tom. Jumpfire had passed on, leaving only Stonetail, Paledove, and Addershriek in the elder's den. Blueshine had passed on as well, losing her fight with a fever. She had never apologized to her mate or kits, and when she arrived in Starclan, blatantly ignored Whitefang. The white warrior was fine with that. Kestrelwind had given up on Timbermask: the bitter tom never returned her affections. Instead, Whitefang watched her cavort happily about camp with Sparrowtail, Featherfall's only remaining kit without a mate. Pride shone in the old warrior's eyes as she watched her son, for now she had grandkits from every child aside from him and Honeygaze, who rested with Whitefang in Starclan.

* * *

><p>"Wait for me!" Blossomkit shrieked happily as she chased the others across camp.<p>

"Slow slug!" Reedkit howled with laughter, darting ahead to where his sister ran alongside Wolfkit and Hazelkit, who pursued the leader's kits intently.

"You'll never catch us!" Larchkit cried, leading the way for she and her siblings to crisscross through the sea of pelts. Mintkit, Otterkit, and Pikekit were little bolts of silver and blue lightning. As Shimmerstar's kits wove in and out of the crowd of cats gathering in camp, the other five followed them with vigor. Blossomkit soon caught up to her siblings, and Reedkit grinned at her as she pulled up along side him.

"I'm no slow slug!" Blossomkit panted, her white face glowing in the sunlight, making the golden flecks in her bright green eyes shimmer. She managed to nudge Reedkit playfully with her shoulder as they chased the others.

"I suppose," The cream tabby tom mused, gray eyes twinkling, "But I bet you're still not as fast as me!" He shot ahead, dust spraying up behind his paws in his mad dash ahead of the pack. Blossomkit sprinted to catch him, but her little legs could only take her so far. Wolfkit accepted the challenge for her silently, spurring himself onward, running faster than he ever had before. Easily, he overtook the other tom with his long strides and large paws that covered so much ground with every leap and bound. Reedkit's eyes widened as the burly white tom passed him, and Wolfkit let out a joyful cry as he soared across the camp like a little white comet. Hazelkit, not to be outdone, matched his brother's pace and together they were flying over the hard-packed dirt. There was a flash of cinnamon-brown before them, and soon they were no longer in first place. Finchkit shot ahead of them, leaving her brother and her friends in the dust as she sped toward the older kits, who had picked up their pace as well. Reedkit, already out of breath, pushed himself even further to catch up, but tripped over Hazelkit's fluttering tail. With a tremendous crash, he tumbled forward, rolling head over paws in a jumble of limbs and fur. Blossomkit skidded to a stop and watched as her friend rolled under the paws of many a warrior until he thudded against the tall, golden-brown legs of an enormous warrior.

"Whoa, there." His voice rumbled, and he looked down at the kit at his paws bemusedly. "In a hurry, aren't we?"

"Sorry, Liontail!" Reedkit squeaked, embarrassed, as he untangled himself and jumped away from the tom's legs quickly.

"Maybe you kits should play a less rowdy game," Liontail proposed, looking over to where Finchkit stood with Hazelkit and Wolfkit, Blossomkit a little ways behind. Shimmerstar's kittens had trotted over too, just to watch the commotion. Whitefang's kits weren't worried; Liontail was on their kind list, for he supported them and their father. He wouldn't hurt them. Not on purpose, anyway.

"Like what?" Pikekit huffed, "We were winning Chase until you stopped it!"

"Yes, and you're causing a ruckus." Liontail scolded.

"Will you play a nice game of mossball with us then?" Mintkit asked sweetly. She was the cleverest of all Shimmerstar's litter, while Larchkit was the boldest, Otterkit was the calmest, and Pikekit had the fieriest temper. Mintkit almost always got her way.

"I've got a patrol to leave on," Liontail shook his head, "and it's been many moons since my kits were young enough to play mossball. Why not a quiet game of Sneak instead?"

"Fine," Larchkit decided. Liontail nodded approvingly before walking away to join the nearest hunting party. Wolfkit wished Falconshade were here, for he would have agreed to mossball. He agreed to anything.

"I'll choose who the sneaks will be, and who the trackers are." Pikekit said authoritatively.

"No, I will!" Larchkit argued, "I'm better!"

"I think Otterkit should choose!" Finchkit added, "He's the fairest!"

"Oh, shut up, I'll choose!" Reedkit announced.

"No, I will!' Mintkit shouted. The other three looked on, bored.

"Why can't we just choose it ourselves and _play_?" Blossomkit mewed impatiently, though no one seemed to hear her but her brothers. The trio had quickly learned that the other six were a competitive lot, never to be outdone by each other. Coming from Shadowclan, where all the kits had been much older or much younger and there was no one to play with but themselves, they knew from early on that it was no use arguing, because you'd never get to play. They sat and waited for a while, watching the six Riverclan born kits fuss and fight forever.

"Well, this isn't any fun." A voice said from behind them. It was playful and musical, like a bubbling stream, and at first they assumed it was Tansyfoot or Ambercloud. When they turned, however, they saw that the cat wasn't a Riverclan cat at all. She sparkled and shimmered like a thousand flashed of light upon the waves, and her eyes twinkled with fun and merriment. She looked tired and a little worn, but kind. She seemed familiar, but they wondered if they'd ever known her before. Her mannerisms seemed like those out of long lost memories. At four moons old, they remembered little about their youth in Shadowclan; it felt like a lifetime ago. Could they have met her before? She shimmered when she walked, and she stepped toward them, laughing a little.

"They're quite talkative, aren't they?" She mused, glancing at the others. The kits realized their friends couldn't see this strange she-cat.

"Are you a warrior?" Wolfkit wondered. The she-cat smiled sadly.

"I was." She replied. But then the sadness vanished from her eyes and her face was lit with a sunny smile. "But never mind that. What do you say we go and have some real fun?" Blossomkit nodded excitedly, and Wolfkit and Hazelkit agreed.

"What will we do?" They asked.

"We'll have an adventure!" The she-cat purred, "Just the four of us. What do you say?"

"An adventure? What kind of adventure?" Hazelkit wondered; he was suspicious now. She seemed so eerily familiar, but her couldn't quite place her face…

"A special adventure," She whispered conspiratorially, leaning down low and close. Her eyes glanced about in an impish sort of way, and she said, "But we'll have to be very quiet, because our adventure is outside!"

"Outside the camp? Oh, no, we couldn't possibly go!' Blossomkit frowned, "We've already gotten into plenty of trouble."

"No one will know!" She laughed like the kits were too silly, that they wouldn't ever get caught, "Besides, I have a secret to tell you. A secret and a story!" This interested them.

"Have we met before?" Wolfkit asked. She merely winked.

"Follow and find out!" Then, she turned and pranced away, glancing over her shoulder giddily. "Coming?"

"We mustn't!" Blossomkit whispered to her brothers, "Imagine what Shimmerstar would do to us if she found out!"

"If," Wolfkit pointed out, "If she found out."

"I suppose we could go…just for a moment…" Hazelkit said, half to himself. "I feel like we know her."

"Let's go!" The she-cat called pleasantly, "We haven't got all day!"

"We're coming!" Wolfkit replied decisively. Nobody noticed them speaking to her. The kits hurried after her, weaving through the crowd unnoticed. They met her at a hole in the camp's barrier wall.

"You trust me, don't you?" The she-cat looked from one to another until she'd seen all three. She seemed a little hurt, a little worried, but only for a few moments.

"Of course we do," Wolfkit answered for all of them.

"And you promise you'll follow and play the game, the special surprise game?" It wasn't so much of question as it was a statement. She looked hopeful.

"I promise." Wolfkit said, crossing his heart with a paw.

"I promise." Hazelkit mewed, doing the same.

"I promise." Blossomkit repeated the words after her brothers, but they tasted funny in her mouth. She grimaced slightly. The she-cat smiled.

"Good," She mewed cheerily, "I hate broken promises."

**QOTD: So there's one more chapter left after this...predictions?**

**This story has been my life for a longass time and I'm sorta happy and sorta sad that it's gonna be over. Not sure what I'll do with myself after this.**

**Also wanted to say OMG 2002 reviews! I've only ever seen 2000+ reviews on stories like Blue Shadows which is a really good saga but had like a hundred something chapters which is insane. Even though I guess since we're at 79 that's pretty crazy too...**

**After the last chapter is posted, you should expect a Timbermask short, a Swanmist short, and two mystery shorts: 1 of a character of your choosing (just say who you want in the comments and be sure of what you say, you can only vote once) and a short on a character of my choosing. **

**Laters gators!**

**Bright**


	80. I Promise

"I haven't got a clue where we're going," Hazelkit whispered to the other three as they trek quietly through the woods. The she-cat leading them was singing pleasantly, a little ditty without any real tune, whose words were fleeting things lost in the jumble of hums and whistles. Wolfkit bobbed along to the beat, which changed every so often, but Blossomkit found the song disconcerting. She preferred things with some semblance of consistency, a bit of order. This song was a mess of different notes and verses, and seemed sewn together sloppily, and at any moment it may have fallen apart. She tried not to listen. The she-cat ahead of them walked confidently, jauntily, her steps bouncing and her tail swishing about the sandy path without stirring a single grain.

"If she's from Starclan, what does she want?" Blossomkit wondered. Hazelkit frowned.

"That's what I want to know." He replied, voice dark with worry. Wolfkit laughed.

"You all worry too much," He scoffed, "You two and Papa. There isn't a thing in all the territories that would hurt us, besides Streamdash and her followers. And with Shimmerstar here, they can't raise a paw to us! Why worry?" Blossomkit watched him as he imitated the she-cat's walked, bubbly and carefree. She didn't like it.

"I'm worrying because we might get caught." She hissed, "And what will Shimmerstar do then?"

"Shimmerstar won't know, because we won't get caught." Wolfkit replied simply. "Now come on, enjoy the adventure."

They walked in silence for a time, the only sound coming from the burbling stream they'd been following that ran along the far side of the river, and the crunch of pebbles beneath their paws. Blossomkit preferred not to think about the song. She walked at the back of the group, Hazelkit ahead of her and Wolfkit ahead of him. The she-cat paced even further ahead of all of them, singing her little ditty and padding along in otherwise contented quiet. The birds grew raucous when they walked by, and Blossomkit wondered if the dead had that kind of effect on the living. She wondered if the dead had any effect at all. She wished her father were there. Her father, with his thick, short ginger tabby pelt the same as hers and his big paws and warm blue eyes. He must be as big as a bear is what they'd mused when they first came to Riverclan, but then they realized that cats such as Lighthawk and Troutfur and Jaystrike were far bigger. But Falconshade would always be their protector, for even though he wasn't as a big as a bear, his love for them was greater in size than all the territories, of that they were certain. Blossomkit looked around. They'd never been so far from camp before. They seemed unnaturally close to the lakeshore; she could see the waves lapping about the marsh and the edge of the territory. Falconshade was going to patrol the shore near Horseplace. She wondered if they'd see him.

* * *

><p>"Has anyone seen my sister?" Whitefang asked. The wanderers at the point shook their heads forlornly, eyes dull and lifeless as they gazed at her.<p>

"Nobody here has seen your sister in many moons, child." A black tom rasped, "Are you here for the edge?" his eyes, once a brilliant green, were clouded over with silver haze and he stumbled toward her blindly. "Are you here to see?"

"No," Whitefang said warily, backing away. "I'm here for Swanmist. Surely one of you has seen my sister!" They all shook their heads again and many moaned.

"I haven't seen my sister since the end…" One whispered, their voice crackly and dry from disuse and lack of water.

"Please, anyone!" Whitefang said again, but by now they'd all turned away, back to the edge, where they stalked along the night's ragged cliffs and stared down into the deep abyss. There was a sliver of light at the bottom of the darkness, a little hole just barely cat sized. Out of desperation, many jump. They all die in the crash. Nightstone, not moonstone, lined the pit, and if they hit it from such a height, any of the Starclan inhabitants would die. But the hole…the hole was their only light. Blinded from staring so long at its glow, the wanderers stumble along the edge. It was said that the hole was the only way back into life, but no one had made it through in centuries. The hole was their god,; they worshipped only life in death. Whitefang knew should wouldn't find Swanmist here.

"Thank you for your time," she called to them, but they no longer cared. They'd all gone back to the edge, to the hole, and she heard the scream of a desperate jumper, and the crack as they hit the bottom.

She left them.

Whitefang hadn't seen her sister in exactly a moon; Swanmist had holed herself up in her mysterious sanctuary by the border of light and dark, refusing to come out. Whitefang refused to go in. It was a stalemate. Brightkit and Whisperkit, voices for the lost souls of Shadowclan, dared not lead in there. She decided it was time to go in by herself.

"Swanmist!" She called, stepping into the shadowed forest cautiously. Something squawked above her, and a black branch cracked beneath her paw. She shied away for a moment, but forced herself to keep going. "Swanmist!" More cracks as dead branches fell from dead trees and dead leaves crunched underfoot. "Sister, please!" The only light in the forest came from the glow of Whitefang's starry fur, and it glinted off the polished bones that scattered the dark ground. Everything was shadow; she reached for a tree and her paw came back coated in darkness; it had no texture, but felt cold. The entire forest was cold. Whitefang wiped her paw on a nearby rat's skull and shivered. This was no place for her sister.

"Swanmist!" She shouted. No answer, and no echo. It was as if the darkness swallowed her voice. She trekked on, wondering whether or not she'd be able to find her way home. "Swanmist!" Ravens cawed somewhere in the distance, but there was no echo for them either. "Please, Swanmist, show yourself! I want to help you!" A silver tear leaked from her face and froze to her fur. Everything was cold. The more she walked, the more she shivered until she was shaking uncontrollably. "Swanmist!"

"Stop your fool yelling, she isn't here." A voice hissed from the shadows.

"Who are you?" Whitefang asked defensively, teeth chattering, as she glanced around. The voice laughed.

"You don't care. And you wouldn't recognize me anyway, foolish kit, I've been here for lifetimes more than you. Hundreds of lifetimes." A cat slinked out of the forest, their face gaunt and drawn. He, for it was a tom, was not like the wanderers. He seemed very much present; his body was strong but lean, his yellow eyes alight with fiery passion in their broken depths. His face was not devoid of feeling, or his form devoid of strength. He was there, his mind was there, though in many ways he seemed gone. His teeth were rotted and yellowed, the same shade as his bright eyes and they matched his ratty brown pelt. Fleas crawled through so much of his fur that it moved even when he was still. He smiled.

"Like what you see?" He laughed piteously. "Of course you don't you've never met one of us before." He grinned. "Or maybe you have. You said you search Swanmist?"

"Yes." Whitefang replied, too cold to think, "Yes I did."

"Well, she's long gone, girl. She's tired of waiting." He muttered, "I am never tired."

"Waiting for what?" Whitefang asked.

"Revenge." He answered, and the one word ignited a fire deep inside her that warmed her bones. She no longer shivered with fear. She was angry.

"Revenge! What could she possibly want?" Whitefang hissed. Taken aback by her sudden fury, the tom shied away.

"I'll show you." He said slyly before slinking away into the shadows. Whitefang followed, movements loud and chaotic compared to his as she crashed through the forest after him. Finally, they emerged into a small clearing, lit with the glow of a shining white circle in the midst of the dark, dead leaves that littered the ground. Beside it was a green moss nest, the only color she'd seen in this forest besides white, black, and gray. The clearing smelled of Swanmist.

"Why?" Whitefang whispered, stunned, as she approached the gleaming circle. Stepping forward and peering at it closely, she realized it was a portal pool. She reached out.

"No! Don't touch it, the scene will change." The tom hissed, cuffing her shoulder with sheathed claws. Whitefang glared at him.

"And why don't I want it to change?" She asked, paw still hovering.

"Don't you want to see who she'd been watching?" He whispered deviously. She leaned forward, and gasped at the image. Swanmist was at the halfbridge between Shadowclan and Riverclan. Swanmist was walking closer to the shore, and following her were…the kits: Wolfkit, then Hazelkit, and then Blossomkit. Her daughter was frightened; her sister was grinning. Swanmist's claws were unsheathed.

"No." Whitefang whispered. It soon became a scream. "No!"

"I warned you," The tom mewed in a singsong voice, "She's done waiting."

* * *

><p>"Where are we going?" Hazelkit broke the silence warily. The she-cat paused in her singing and laughed merrily.<p>

"It's a surprise, remember?" She called from the head of the group, "And we're almost there!"

"Are we close to the shoreline?" Wolfkit asked, "Because our father's patrolling down there today." The strange warrior's eyes lit up.

"Wonderful! We may just have to stop on by and say hello." She smiled, "Or I'll say hello anyway." They continued walking in silence for a time before coming to stop near a patch of golden reeds; they swayed high above their kittens' heads like rays of sunlight come down to earth, ad seemed to brush against the sky.

"We're here!" The she-cat said cheerily, "Are you ready for our game?"

"We're ready!" Wolfkit mewed eagerly. The she-cat's eyes sparkled.

"Lovely." She purred. "But first, I'll tell you a story." She patted the space in front of her with a delicate tap of her paw before seating herself on a cushion of moss. The kits gathered in front of her, and they waited patiently for their story to begin.

"Once upon a time," She began, her voice silky smooth, "I was young. I lived in a Clan among the pines, the one you used to call home. I lived there with my parents, my sister, and all of my clanmates. Back then Shadowclan was powerful. We had the strongest warriors, the most beautiful she-cats, and the proudest history. We had high morals and standards, and we met them. Or, at least, most of us did." Her eyes darkened. "When I was little, my sister was bullied terribly by these three brutish kits. They were soon made apprentices, but that didn't stop them. She was bullied because she was different from my mother and me. My mother bullied her too, and in a way she was meaner. But my sister was strong. She was as loyal and brave and smart as my mother said I was pretty and talented and perfect. Our father loved us equally, but many in the Clan were against my sister. Her name then was Whitekit."

Blossomkit shivered, and she felt Hazelkit stiffen beside her. This story seemed familiar. Wolfkit's eyes never left the storyteller; he gazed at her with rapt attention.

"Whitekit and I had some good times and some bad, but we were eventually made apprentices. Our mother still hated her with every breath she took, and yet our bonds only strengthened until one day, where her friends were no longer my friends and I made some of my own. The three brutes of our kithood were kind to me, they gave me all the attention that hers gave her, and I thought we were even. I'd never been ignored before. We made up, but Whitepaw and I weren't truly inseparable again until we were made warriors." The she-cat's voice was thick with emotion now, and her eyes welled with tears.

"Again we had our ups and downs. The Clan still hadn't warmed to her as it had to me, and our mother stayed the same. I had a mate and she didn't, but I lost my first litter of kits. The second would never be born." Her tail flicked against her stomach and her face twitched with pain and anger. "I died in battle, and she tried to save me. But the murderer who gave me this," The warrior shifted so the kits could see the ugly, twisted, snake-like scar that climbed up her pale belly, "got away. She swore vengeance. She _promised me vengeance_. But I never got what I was promised." She glared at the kits furiously, "Whitefang broke her promise! She tracked him down and fell in love, and then she had _you_!" Her sweet voice became a snarl, and her eyes gained a shattered light, "You! She had kits with my killer and then couldn't live with the guilt. But it's too late for her now," Swanmist smiled at them, eyes wide, "Because you promised to play my game."

The kits were frightened now. Blossomkit huddled close to Hazelkit, and Wolfkit stared at his aunt in horror.

"We'll never play your game!" He shouted.

"But you made a promise," Swanmist said, insulted, "And I hate broken promises."

"You tricked us!" Blossomkit wailed, green eyes meeting green. Swanmist shook her head.

"You could have said no. But you promised to play my game and now you will. I'm sick and tired of waiting." She stood, and reached over, her form suddenly solid, as she grabbed Hazelkit, too stunned to resist, by the scruff and heaved him into the air. She then walked away with an air of purpose, carrying the little tom as his littermates screamed to let him go. She ignored them. Walking along the shoreline, Swanmist then lept up onto the halfbridge that stood in the lake between Shadowclan and Riverclan. She padded over to the edge of the bridge, and held the little tom over the water. Laughing, she spoke through his fur.

"Can you swim?" She asked sweetly.

"N-no," Hazelkit whimpered, "please, put me down! Let me go!"

"Don't hurt him!" Blossomkit shrieked.

"Hush, or do you want me to send him to Starclan with your precious mother?" Swanmist snapped furiously, quieting the sniffling kits. Wolfkit stood and made to run away, but in an instant Swanmist had called out a new threat: "If you don't play the game, kitties, your brother drowns." Wolfkit and Blossomkit froze, staring up at her.

"You wouldn't!" Wolfkit choked, tears trickling down his cheeks, "No, you wouldn't!"

"You wanna test me, kit?" Swanmist grunted, shaking Hazelkit as he hung over the water. He shrieked in pain as her teeth dug into his pelt. "Now, you two come here." Reluctantly, Wolfkit and Blossomkit walked over to the halfbridge and struggled to jump atop it. "Faster!" Swanmist hissed angrily, "You promised to play!"

"You're a terrible, terrible cat!" Blossomkit sobbed, "Don't you love Mama?"

"I can never love a _traitor_!" Swanmist snarled, "And she broke her promise. She betrayed me!"

"Please, please don't do this!" Blossomkit wailed.

"I hate you," Wolfkit growled, "I'm going to kill you!" Swanmist laughed hollowly.

"But I'm already dead." She replied. "Now, let's play the first part of our game…"

"They won't play any more of your games, sister." A wild snarl erupted behind them, and every head turned toward the noise. The kits stared in awe at the spectral figure who stood at the other end of the pier, her golden eyes blazing and white fur puffed up to three times its normal size. Her claws were unsheathed, her face contorted with anger. To them, who hadn't seen her in two moons, she was beautiful.

"Mama!" Blossomkit called.

"Mama, help me!" Hazelkit wailed.

"Whitefang! So glad you could come!" Swanmist hissed, "This is my moment, and you're about to see what it's like to keep a promise."

"You're insane," Whitefang growled, "You're a broken cat, bitter and resentful, and they'll never play your games again."

"But this is the last one!" Swanmist laughed, "First, we'll see if they know how to swim. Then, I send them down the river to their dear, dear daddy. I might just kill him too, and add him to the parade. Them, I'll send them up the river to Paledove, and when she and Stonetail jump in to join them, my revenge will be complete. Every bit of light, every spark of happiness will be gone, Whitefang, and you'll suffer like I did." Whitefang took a step toward her sister, claws scraping against the weathered wood ominously.

"Let my children go, Swanmist, and we can end this without hurting anyone." The white warrior said firmly. "You're my sister. We can work this out."

"Work what out?" Swanmist spat with rage, "The past is long gone, now, and you can't go back and undo it. Nobody can! All I can do is ruin your future like he ruined mine." Whitefang shook her head.

"It wasn't his fault." She replied. "It was an accident. Let go, Swanmist. Please, sister, let go."

"You want me to let go? I can let go, and your son will float down the shore, lifeless." Swanmist's green eyes were broken and wild, her emaciated body shaking with fury. She had wasted away, a shell of her former self, and her bones jutted through her shimmering pelt. Whitefang, in contrast, glowed a brilliant white and glittered with power. The kits basked in her presence, took comfort in her strength, and their light filled Swanmist with darkness.

"Swanmist, it isn't his fault, and it isn't my fault. What you swore me to do was wrong, and I didn't see it until it was too late. You were frightened, and you were angry. It's over now. Don't hurt my kits, they're innocent." Whitefang said, taking another step forward. Swanmist stepped toward Whitefang, momentarily forgetting the kit and the water. She stepped away from the edge and came closer to Whitefang, glaring. The white warrior acted quickly, seeing the opportunity and seizing it. She lunged forward, forepaws outstretched. She tripped her sister, whose jaw dropped in surprise, freeing Hazelkit. He tumbled aside, nearly falling over the edge of the halfbridge. Wolfkit caught him, and pulled him to safety. The trio watched in horrified relief as their mother tackled Swanmist, bringing her to the ground. Both she-cats, their skills rusty and unused, grappled with each other. Whitefang grunted as Swanmist kicked her stomach, winding her, and gained the upper hand. Swanmist swiped her claws across Whitefang's face, and the younger sister howled with pain she hadn't felt in many moons. Furious, Whitefang slashed at her sister's shoulder, and Swanmist shrieked. The kits fled the halfbridge and sought sanctuary on the shore.

"Go home! Don't let anyone see you!" Whitefang gasped, calling to them as she flattened her sister against the wood planks. Swanmist growled, and Whitefang turned her attention back to the battle before she could see whether or not her kittens had gone. The white warrior raked her claws down Swanmist's side, and the skinny she-cat snarled. She wriggled free and faced Whitefang, eyes narrow and angry, wounds dripping sparkling red stars.

"You're lost," Whitefang panted, "You're lost in your ways. You aren't the sister I knew, nor the sister I loved, anymore." She lunged again, striking Swanmist across the face with one forepaw before scraping her right flank with scrabbling hind claws. Swanmist shrank back, screaming with pain as she tried in vain to defend herself. Whitefang lept and pinned her weakened sister to the ground, staring her in the face. Swanmist spat into her eyes, and Whitefang roared with anger.

"I'll kill you!" Swanmist growled, low and wild.

"There's still time to change," Whitefang insisted, "I can still forgive you. You can come home with me." Blood dripped into Swanmist's eyes.

"Never!" She grunted. Pushing Whitefang away, Swanmist freed herself and got to her paws. Whitefang rose as well, and the she-cats circled each other, tails flicking like irate adders. Swanmist sprang at her sister, forepaws outstretched, soaring through the air like a widespread eagle, her silhouette gaunt and sick against the bright blue sky. Whitefang stood on her hind paws, reaching up with both forepaws, claws unsheathed. She felt them sink into undead flesh and fur, starry splatters of ruby shimmering about her. Her claws tore through her sister's pelt, and Swanmist crumpled midair, falling to the ground. She gasped for breath as she lay on the pier, but her throat was choked with blood; it dribbled out the sides of her mouth and when she coughed, it splattered against Whitefang's matted white fur. As Swanmist twitched on the ground, limbs in full spasm, what could only be known as Starclan's blood spilled from her stomach. Her old scar reopened, and her eyes were flooded with old pain, her heart beating its old slow thuds.

As her sister's eyes glazed over again, and her heart stopped beating, Whitefang could not tear her eyes away. She raised a paw to close Swanmist's eyes gently, so the shattered depths of pale green no longer stared out at the world she thought had so wronged her. Whitefang shook her head, silver tears dripping from darkened golden eyes, and felt the stinging wounds her kin had inflicted upon her.

"I'm sorry." She whispered to the lifeless form as the stars stopped shining and faded to everlasting darkness. There were no second chances; this was the end. "I'm so sorry." She got to her paws as soon as the body had disappeared. Limping, Whitefang made her way off the halfbridge, and she sat herself down on the soft, golden sand of the beach. Memories flooded back to her, dark and dangerous, and she finally understood them after all these moons.

_"This is not your life to live." Addershriek said, voice empty and emotionless, "There is a different path set for you."_

_"Paths are not set in stone!" Whitefang argued, "I could stay here forever! You cannot stop me!"_

_"Whitefang!" Streampaw whimpered, nuzzling the warrior's foreleg._

_"Toss a pebble in a river, the current stays the same." Addershriek meowed, "This is not the destiny of Shadowclan. These kits have never lived. These kits will never live. Your time is limited. There are choices to be made. Wake up. You must wake up."_

_"No! I refuse!" Whitefang wailed, backing away. Addershriek stepped towards her, soulless eyes boring into her own._

_"Whitefang!" Streampaw whispered, "Please don't leave. What's going on? I'm alive, I swear!"_

_"This is not your story." Addershriek said._

_"My story is unwritten!" Whitefang snarled. Streampaw cowered behind her mentor._

_"You must return."_

_"Never!"_

_"There are choices to be made, but the outcome is the same. There is very little time for you."_

"There was always no time for me..." Whitening murmured, "This was my story. My fate."

_She found herself in a land of shadows. The place she was in was cloaked in shades of black and gray and green, though still slightly discernable. Through the shadow, she could tell hazily that she was in Shadowclan territory. A buffeting wind pierced her fur, and chilled her very bones. And soon, blurry, shady snowflakes began to fall. The ground was covered, and for some reason, Whitefang felt the need to press forward, wading through the snow. She moved on, gusts pushing her back so hard she had to squint to see vague outlines. Soon, a high-pitched scream echoed through the forest. Whitefang recognized the scream. She surged forward, desperately trying to reach the sound of the scream so eerily familiar, yet so different. She soon smelt blood. It bathed her paws._

_Then, she was on the edge of the shadowy territory, looking over to glittering, sparkling water. The outlines of everything were undefined, and the colors melded together, as if determined to keep her location a secret. Whitefang felt pelts press around her, choking her, and the scream came again, shorter, and more final. Once again, through the shadows and haze, blood seeped through her thick white pelt, staining it crimson, she heard faint whispers, unmistakably words, and felt fury flood her heart._

_The scene changed, she was stalking the shadowy forest floor. It was a forest, she decided, because foggy spots of what must be sunlight dappled the ground. Her claws were unsheathed. A strong voice came out from behind the trees, along with a shape, huge and cloaked in ever changing grays, and she felt the hate bubble within her. The hate soon changed to warmth, and the scene soon changed to shadowy oranges and golds, leaves' obscured forms crossing her vision, though they were certainly leaves. The shape grew closer, and she grew excited. The warmth spread from the tips of her ears to her toes, and her fur quivered with anticipation._

_She was lying in a warm, dark space that smelled of milk. Small, round shadows squirmed at her belly. Fear and guilt welled in her heart, and poured from her eyes as tears. She rose, and fled the space, out into the open, where the only thing in the dim, fuzzy world that was sharp and crystal clear were the stars. She followed them through the shifting darkness, and heard the babbling of a brook. The light of the tiny diamonds in the sky dimmed until they seemed eons away. Her vision went dark. She felt herself falling, falling, and then almost flying._

Everything made sense.

_"Promise…promise me, Whitefang…I need you to promise." Swanmist rasped desperately, eyes searching Whitefang's face._

Everything...

She stared off in the distance, out over the vast expanse of water, and shivered as she imagined the lifeless bodies of her kits, parents, and mate floating downstream. She saw, in her mind's eye, the look of horror on her sister's face when she struck the final blow. She felt the burn of her wounds, those that her sister had tore in her flesh. _I'll kill you!_ Swanmist's voice echoed in her memory.

It would only ever be a memory, now. A terrible, bloody memory. A heartbreak. The shattered look in her sister's eyes comforted her: Swanmist was gone. Swanmist had left her long ago. She waited until nightfall, to stare up at the sky. She searched the many stars that glittered and burst across the world's ceiling for an empty space, something to mirror the hole in her heart. She found nothing. Swanmist's soul had departed long ago, back when she first bled upon the earth, back when her heart first stopped. Whitefang knew, of course, that a little piece of herself had died with her.

* * *

><p>Late that evening, the kits were huddled in bed, having recounted their day's trauma to their father. Falconshade waited, eyes closed. He knew not what he was waiting for. Wolfkit's slow breathing beside him was steady, disrupted only every so often by a soft whimper or whine. Blossomkit lay awake with him, green eyes glowing even tough he couldn't see them. Hazelkit stirred in his sleep, paws twitching as he muttered "run….run….run". His heart began to slow, his mind a tumultuous storm of anger and fear. <em>Whitefang.<em> The birds had stopped chirping, and the crickets were the only ones who stayed awake tonight. As soon as he began to drift away, one word brought him back. Blossomkit, her voice but a whisper in the stillness of the night:

"Mama?"

Golden eyes stared back at them from the entrance to the nursery, a faintly lit form with a soft pearly glow silhouetted against an inky backdrop blotted with stars.

"Whitefang!" He gasped, heart in his throat as she watched them from afar. She was distant, a specter in the night.], yet her warmth flooded through the cool air and enveloped them. Her eyes glowed with love and light.

"Mama please," Blossomkit cried softly, "Please don't leave. Don't you love us?" A gentle voice answered her, battle worn and weary but full of love.

"I'll never leave you, my little one. I'll always love you." She murmured, voice no longer aching with phantom pain. "I promise."

**And it's officially over. My longest writing project ever is now complete. Whoa. **

**I love you guys, and thank you so much for standing by me and reading and reviewing and omg I love all of you so much for sticking by Promise and Whitefang and me...it was rough sometimes but y'all still reviewed and made me ****ridiculously happy. **

**As I say goodbye to this story, note that i won't yet be saying goodbye to these characters. I will post Swanmist's oneshot tomorrow, and then ****Timbermask's will go up later this week. On that note, don't forget to tell me who you want a oneshot of! Choose one character!**

**This is Brighteyes, signing off here for the final time. I love you all!**

**~Bright**


	81. Epilogue of Sorts

**Alright everyone I know Promise is over but I've posted another story, an epilogue of sorts, told through the eyes of Whitefang and Falconshade's kits.**

**If you'd like to read it, it's called _Of Love, Trust, and Memories_ and I'm advertising it here for a few days just for a little publicity. I know many were wondering how everything turned out, and I hope this three-part tale provides some insight into the futures of Wolfkit, Blossomkit, and Hazelkit.**

**Love love love,**

**~Bright**


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